


You and Me Against the World

by madmalina



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Accidental Sex, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angry Erik, Calm Down Erik, Charles You Slut, Charles You Will Be Drunk, Coming of Age, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Erik-centric, Estrangement, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Horny Teenagers, M/M, Poor Erik, Protective Erik, Puberty, Slow Burn, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-15 04:45:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 59,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madmalina/pseuds/madmalina
Summary: One important thing to remember: this is a love story.Twenty years and two lifetimes later. Just two boys learning to mutant, grow up, and love each other.





	1. 1.1 Elementary School

**Author's Note:**

> Finally. My second fic. Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> All the thanks and love go out to my dear friend and wonderful beta [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) who wrote the sweet little synopsis and spent hours and hours editing, suggesting, and answering my desperate calls for help. I love you, my friend! <3

**_PART ONE_ **

 

_ Chapter 1.1 _

**Elementary School**

6 January 1992

 

“Just be nice to them Erik, and you’ll find they’ll like you.  _ Alles wird gut." _ His mother kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sure they’ll see what a wonderful person you are.”

She hugged him, and it was a long time before he let go.

“That’s my boy,” she said, still smiling encouragingly. “Have a great first day at school,  _ mein Schatz." _

She waved, and he waved back until he reached the entrance of the school building and he couldn’t see her anymore. His hands dropped into fists as soon as he was out of sight.

He knew his mother desperately hoped that this time, in this state, in this school, here in Westchester, things would be different. That he’d find a friend, and wouldn’t get into trouble anymore. Erik felt terrible for letting her down again and again, but he couldn’t understand how she could still be so hopeful. Why should the kids in this school be any different? They were the same everywhere. No, Erik wouldn’t bother trying to find a  _ friend. _ He’d never needed one, especially not one of these big-headed idiots. But he could stay out of trouble all right, make sure his mother didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

She’d never blame him for anything but Erik knew it had been his fault alone that they’d had to move state for the fourth time within two years now, which meant that she was once more without a job. His fault that she was always worrying, that she hardly slept anymore, and that she’d lost so much weight in the last couple months.

But he could change that. If he just kept away from the other children, didn’t let them provoke him, and made sure that  _ the thing _ that had happened in the other schools didn’t happen again, she wouldn’t need to worry anymore and they could finally settle down again.

Erik looked around in the entrance hall. His mother had told him that his teacher would pick him up here and take him to the classroom, but there was no teacher around. A few younger girls, probably second graders, walked past him, looking at him, pointing at his old and threadbare clothes, and giggling behind their hands. His face grew hot, and he clenched his fists harder. He couldn’t get angry. Bad things happened when he got angry.

_ Just ignore them, _ he told himself.

Erik felt a tap on his shoulder and spun around quickly, ready to defend himself. The middle-aged man standing behind him raised his eyebrows.

“Erik Lehnsherr?” he asked. Without waiting for a reply, he went on. “I’m Mr. Clarke, I teach fourth grade. You’re in my class.”

Erik nodded silently. Mr. Clarke was tall and slim, and looked stern, not at all as though he’d enjoy spending his days looking after nine- and ten-year-olds.

“Your mother has informed me about your special circumstances, but you must know that it’s very uncommon for us to accept students in the middle of the school year. This is no place for mischief-makers. Let me tell you that we do not accept violence or bullying in this school. Is that understood?”

He looked at Erik expectantly, so Erik nodded again.

Mr. Clarke sighed.

“Very well. Follow me, and I’ll introduce you to your classmates.”

Erik trudged after his new teacher, through gray and almost empty corridors, meeting the occasional latecomer slipping into their classrooms barely on time. Erik didn’t say a word. Of course Mr. Clarke had already marked him down as a troublemaker. It had been like that at the previous schools as well. His mother had to give the management some reason why Erik needed a place in their school on this short a notice, so she told them vaguely about the problems at his old schools, but they always seemed to conclude anyway that he’d been expelled for bad behavior.

They weren’t wrong. He’d never  _ meant _ for any of the things to happen, and he was still pretty sure that technically speaking he hadn’t done any of them. But odd accidents had happened to his bullies whenever they’d provoked him until his head had been hot from fury.

Erik  _ knew _ he hadn’t stabbed Tommy White in the leg with that pair of scissors. He’d never even touched them. They’d been lying on his desk. And then, suddenly, they’d just sort of darted through the air all by themselves at Tommy. But of course nobody had believed him. He hardly believed it himself because he had been so angry that he’d really  _ wanted _ to hurt Tommy. But he hadn’t. He really hadn’t touched those scissors. He had no idea how it had happened.

And then the thing with Jackson Hall in the last school. Erik just couldn’t explain how that door had slammed so hard against him that he’d suffered a concussion. Erik had been on the same side of the door as Jackson. So how could it be his fault? He couldn’t make a door slam into someone’s face without touching it, could he?

Mr. Clarke stopped in front of a classroom door, out of which  Erik could hear a lot of noise. Kids were shouting and laughing. Erik wished he could just turn around and leave again, but Mr. Clarke placed his hand on his shoulder, opened the door and gave him a little push inside.

“Quiet!”

About 25 children scurried to their seats, and silence fell within seconds. Erik saw many eyes dart curiously in his direction.

“Listen, everyone. This is Erik. He’s your new classmate, so be nice to him.” He pointed at an unoccupied desk in the last row. “Sit down, son.”

A few children giggled while Erik walked to the back of the room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw some of them pointing at his worn-out shirt and pants and whispering to their friends.

Mr. Clarke’s teaching was all right, even if it was a little dull. He managed to keep the class silent with a few stern looks and reprimands, even though a lot of the children got bored very quickly.

Erik preferred the dull teaching of Mr. Clarke to that of his last teachers. They’d wanted to play endless games with the class which had meant that Erik had had to interact with his classmates. Staying away from them was much easier if all were sitting at their respective desks and not talking to each other.

When the bell rang for lunch hour, Erik packed up slowly to make sure all the other children left before him, so he could walk alone and didn’t have to talk to anyone.

He hadn’t counted on the small group of boys waiting for him outside of the lunchroom, however.

“Why do you look like a hobo?”

“My mum uses shirts like that as cleaning rags.”

“What does your father do? Empty the garbage cans?”

“I don’t think his parents work. They probably live in the street.”

“Hey, how’s life under the bridge?”

The boys laughed. One of them grabbed Erik’s backpack, and before Erik could get it back, they’d emptied its contents onto the floor.

“What’s that? Is that supposed to be lunch?”

“Aww, can you not afford proper food?”

They laughed again. One of the boys picked up Erik’s sandwich and tossed it into the trashcan next to the door.

“Enjoy your lunch, hobo.”

Laughing loudly, they disappeared into the lunchroom.

Erik hardly moved while the boys made fun of him. His fists were clenched tightly, and his whole body was shaking with anger. He would’ve liked nothing more than to fight back, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk anything bad happening again. He’d sworn to himself that he’d make it work this time. His mother shouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Even if it meant that he’d have to endure their bullying without striking back.

Slowly, he bent down and picked up his books, exercise books and pencil case, before he walked toward the trash can and fished out his sandwich. It was still plastic wrapped and had therefore not touched any of the trash. It would have to do. He didn’t have any money to buy himself new lunch and he really was hungry.

The lunchroom was packed and noisy. Most students seemed to be buying their lunch here. Erik didn’t see any other children with packed food, not like him. Keeping an eye out for his bullies, Erik headed for an empty table in the furthest corner of the room, sitting down with his back to the wall.

He unwrapped his sandwich carefully, making sure it didn’t touch the outside of the plastic wrap and took a first bite. When he looked up again he spotted a smaller boy standing a few yards away, staring at him with big blue eyes.

Erik looked quickly away. If he remembered correctly, that boy, even though he was shorter than the others, had been in his class. So they wouldn’t even stop tormenting him while he was eating. Well, as long as the boy didn’t come any nearer, Erik would just ignore him. Maybe if Erik didn’t react to him being there, the boy would just leave.

But he didn’t.

Erik slowly ate his sandwich, trying not to pay the boy any attention, but he couldn’t help wondering why he was standing there. Was he waiting for Erik to do something stupid, so he could go and tell his friends about it?

Erik finished his sandwich and sat, irresolute, for a moment. There was still half an hour until classes continued. Sitting here, doing nothing, was practically an invitation for all the idiots to come and pick on him again. Without sparing the blue-eyed boy another glance, he got up and walked toward the door. He’d spend the remaining part of lunch break in the school yard outside. That was probably safest.

Even though it was cold and windy, quite a few children were outside, playing, laughing, or chasing each other. Erik took a seat on a bench at the side of the yard, drawing circles with his feet into the dirt in front of him. It really was freezing cold and his jacket was far too thin. He drew it closer around himself.

A soft rustling noise almost made him jump. He looked up to see the smaller, blue-eyed boy from earlier sitting next to him. Erik hadn’t noticed him arriving. The boy must have approached Erik very quietly. He looked nervous, but he didn’t take his eyes off of Erik’s face.

It was extremely odd. What did he want?

“Go away,” said Erik automatically.

Something like hurt or confusion crossed the boy’s face, but he didn’t move. For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something, but he didn’t speak. He was wearing a neat white shirt and very expensive-looking pants. A pampered little prince probably. But then Erik noticed a smudge of something that looked like dried blood on the end of the boy’s nose. 

“Go play with your stupid friends and leave me alone,” said Erik. “I don’t want you sitting here.”

Slowly, the boy got up and walked away. Erik watched him suspiciously. He was waiting for the boy to rejoin the bullies from earlier, but he just walked to the other side of the school yard and sat down on another bench, alone. Erik stared at him for a moment, before he remembered that he’d sworn to himself to stay away from anyone in this school. What did he care about that boy, as long as he left him alone from now on.

However, Erik caught himself more than once watching the boy sitting in the front row later in class. He was definitely not part of the group of bullies. In fact, Erik saw them flipping tiny paper balls at the blue-eyed boy’s neck several times. So if he hadn’t been watching Erik to see if he did anything stupid, what did he want? Was he looking for a friend? Well, if he was, he’d have to look somewhere else. Erik had neither the time nor the patience to take care of someone else.


	2. 1.2 Elementary School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to the most dedicated beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight)!

_ Chapter 1.2 _

**Elementary School**

February 1992

 

The boy didn’t approach Erik again, but Erik caught him watching him more than once within the next weeks. He learned that he had a name too. Charles. Which sounded ridiculously posh in Erik’s opinion.

Charles never raised his hand in class, but Mr. Clarke called his name often, and Charles always gave a perfectly articulated answer. His accent was just as posh as his name. Erik had only ever heard people speak like that on television. Charles was picked on by the same boys who regularly made fun of Erik’s clothes for being a smart-ass. Well, he kind of was. Charles didn’t seem to have any friends. At least he always sat alone in the lunchroom, as far away from the crowd as possible, and always in front of an empty table. Erik was pretty sure that he’d never seen Charles eat any lunch, and he had half a mind to give him half of his sandwich, before he reminded himself that it was none of his business. It was hard enough trying to stay out of trouble without getting mixed up in other people’s problems.

Most days Erik was successful in slipping into class just before Mr. Clarke arrived, and leaving as quickly after the bell as possible, before anyone else had even packed up properly. This way he evaded coming across his classmates most of the time. Whenever they did find him, he managed to keep a cool head by concentrating on something mundane, like a spot on the wall, or some paper on the floor, while they pushed him around, laughed, and called him names. This seemed to give him an absent look though, which soon earned him the nickname ‘hobo zombie.’ Well, he’d been called worse things before.

Even though things in school pretty much stayed the same, life in general improved a few weeks after Erik and his mother had moved to Westchester, when she got a job in a cleaning company. Her salary wasn’t high, but at least it was enough to pay the rent for their tiny one-bedroom apartment, buy food, and even get Erik a new pair of jeans and a new school bag. His old one was falling apart. Erik tried to talk his mother out of buying him anything new, but she insisted. He still felt bad about it. He knew that she hadn’t bought herself anything in a long time, and chose to sleep in the living room on the far-too-short couch so Erik could have his own room despite his protests, which was bad for her back. But she wouldn’t hear anything about it. Everything she did was always for Erik’s benefit and never her own. This made Erik feel ten times worse for everything that had happened. And for still not being the kind of child she deserved. One that didn’t give her constant trouble.

After about two weeks she stopped asking him how he liked the other kids in his class and whether any of them were his friends. Erik knew that she hoped he’d find someone, probably because she thought he must be lonely, but he really wasn’t. He didn’t need a friend. He didn’t need a millstone round his neck. He didn’t need trouble because whenever trouble caught up with him, somehow bad things happened and that meant he’d have to put his mother through even more worry and problems. He wouldn’t let this happen. Not anymore.

In general, Erik’s tactic of staying out of everyone’s path to avoid trouble was working well. Until one Wednesday morning.

It had been a normal week so far. He’d been picked on, but he’d been able to ignore them. He hadn’t lost control, which was good. Mr. Clarke had set them a ridiculously large amount of homework. The usual.

Yet that day wasn’t a normal day. Not since two years ago when Erik had returned from school to find his mother in tears, telling him that his father had died in a workplace accident. Everything had gone downhill since then, and he still missed his dad more than he could possibly admit to anyone. His mother had tried to talk to him about his father before, and she’d tried again a year ago, on the first anniversary of his death, but he’d wiggled out of it. He couldn’t bear to see her cry. It made everything worse.

This morning she’d had to leave very early in order to get to work on time, but he was sure she’d try and talk to him about it later. He didn’t much like the thought and was more than a little nervous about it. There had to be a way for him to get out of it again.

As every morning, his mother had left a plastic-wrapped sandwich on the tiny kitchen table which he packed before he left the apartment, locking the door carefully behind himself.

He was early and he didn’t feel like hanging around school too long, so he decided to make a detour through the larger and wealthier streets of Salem Center. He’d done this before whenever he’d left for school too soon to be sure not to meet any of his bullies, so he already knew his way. As he walked toward school, he strangely felt more and more nervous to the point of feeling a little sick. At first, he was sure this was because of the date and what it meant, as well as the upcoming conversation with his mother, so he tried to push it aside. But the further he walked, the more distressed and panicky he felt. Soon it was more than an uncomfortable feeling of sorrow and apprehension, but had turned into full-blown panic. He didn’t understand why, but he kept turning around to see if anyone was following him and expected to be attacked any minute. He walked on, however, trying to distract himself by looking at the houses and gardens to his left and right. It didn’t work. When he’d gone about half the distance to his school, his heart was beating so hard and fast, he thought he might be sick at any moment. What was happening to him? There was nothing and nobody there to be afraid of. He took a few deep breaths, just as his mother had told him to do when he felt distressed, but it didn’t help. Instead, a strange buzzing filled his ears and he felt a sudden weird urge to walk toward a small alleyway a few yards away to his right. Even though he didn’t  _ really _ want to go there (what was the point? If anything it would be more dangerous), even though his legs had begun to shake slightly in inexplicable fear, he couldn’t resist the strange pull into the direction of the alley. It was as though a grasping hand had grabbed hold of him and was pulling him further and further into the small street, and there was nothing he could do to resist it. His feet just moved toward the alleyway of their own accord, while his heart started beating even faster, the feeling of powerlessness and fear getting more and more overwhelming.

He got closer to the small side street and through the loud buzzing in his ears, he suddenly heard a voice. A very angry, frantic voice, belonging to a boy.

“How did you do it? Tell me, freak!”

Next there was loud clattering as though something big made of metal had fallen over. Erik walked faster toward the alleyway, the pull on his body getting stronger and stronger.

“You were in my head! You were in my  _ fucking head! How did you do it?" _

Then there was a second voice, also of a boy. This one was vaguely familiar.

“I’m sorry! I swear, I didn’t mean to! Please don’t, Cain!”

Another clattering sound and a muffled scream. Erik broke into a run. He turned the corner and saw the back of a large boy kneeling down, a pair of legs sticking out between the large boy’s, kicking out frantically. Next to the boy laid a big metal garbage can, which had obviously just fallen over. The boy kept raising his fists, seemingly punching the person laying beneath him.

Erik didn’t think. He ran toward the scene, adrenaline pumping through his veins, not giving a moment’s thought to how on earth he was supposed to stop a boy so much larger than himself.

But before he’d even reached the two boys, the garbage can all of a sudden seemed to come to life. It flung itself at the large boy and knocked him over. The boy scrambled back to his feet at once and turned around to see who’d attacked him, glaring at Erik. Ignoring his previous victim, he flung himself at Erik, but once again the garbage can came to Erik’s aid, flying through the air and knocking the boy over again.

“What the—?”

The boy turned around to stare at Erik again, terror in his eyes now. He struggled to his feet and moved away from Erik, going backwards, so as not to let him out of his sight.

“Freaks!” he spat out, before he turned around and fled as fast as he could.

It took a moment for the buzzing in Erik’s ears to tone down a little, for his heart to beat less frantically, and his breathing to calm down. The anxiety he’d felt only moments before vanished too. And he still couldn’t explain where it had come from in the first place.

He heard a rustling noise behind him and turned around, alarmed for a moment, having forgotten the other boy. It was Charles. His nose and lip were bleeding, and his usually neat white shirt was stained with blood and dirt and ripped at the collar, but otherwise he looked unhurt.

“Are you okay?” Erik heard himself ask.

Charles nodded, looking at Erik with big eyes.

“You did that,” he said then. “You made the trash can fly around.” He didn’t look scared, but awed and amazed.

“Don’t be stupid,” replied Erik with a snort. “How would I do that?”

However, he felt nervousness creep up on him again. It had happened again. He’d made strange things happen without meaning to. He knew there was something weird about him, something he’d been trying to keep under control. But how could it possibly be? How could anyone make garbage cans and scissors fly through the air and make doors move without touching them?

Charles looked at him intently. “You’re different,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Erik snapped. “You mean, I’m a freak?”

Charles shook his head frantically.“That’s not what I meant at all,” he said quickly. “I just–”

He looked worried, as though frightened he might say something stupid or insensitive.

Erik clenched his fists. There he was again. He’d done it. He’d ruined his next chance, and just after his mother had found a new job and things had begun to look better for them. What would he tell her? She’d be devastated. And on the anniversary of his father’s death too. His father would be so disappointed by what had become of his son.

“You’re sad.”

“I’m not!” Erik felt his face grow hot. “Why would I be–? I’m not–leave me alone!”

Erik glared at Charles, his fists still clenched tightly. What had just happened? Erik had learned over the last two years to never show any weakness in front of other people, and there was this little boy telling him—not asking him, telling him—that he was sad. How did he know?

_ Stop it. Stop it! You made him angry. You can’t make him angry. He’s going to leave and then he’ll hate you like everyone else, _ said a blurry voice in Erik’s head, but those weren’t his own thoughts. It was definitely Charles’ voice, but Charles hadn’t moved his lips. Erik stared at him. He suddenly recalled what the large boy had said just before Erik had come to Charles’ aid.  _ 'You were in my head.' _ Was this what he’d meant? How did Charles do this? And what about the strange feeling of anxiety and distress that had overcome Erik earlier? And the weird pull into the small side street?

He took a step backwards.

“How are you doing this?” he asked, unable to suppress the trembling in his voice.

Charles shook his head again. “I don’t know.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “I knew you were different too.”

“How?”

Charles shook his head again, looking lost. “Your mind spoke to me,” he said, looking away from Erik for the first time, fixing his eyes on a spot on the ground.

_ "What?" _

“I don’t know. I don’t understand it. But you’ve been thinking very loudly, and I could tell that you were afraid of something too.”

Erik stared at Charles in disbelief. This couldn’t be true. Was Charles trying to lead him on? Make him look stupid?

“I’m not trying to make you look stupid,” said Charles suddenly, his head snapping back up, looking at Erik again, his eyes wide.

“You’ve been reading my mind?”

Charles nodded, his eyes fixed on Erik’s face again, looking a little scared once more.

Erik took a deep breath. He needed to know for sure. “What was I thinking?”

“What?”

“You said I was thinking loudly. What was I thinking. When you thought I was different too.”

Charles licked his lips nervously. “You were thinking about what had happened in the schools you went to before you came here. You didn’t understand what had happened to two boys who said you’d attacked them. One with a pair of scissors, one with a door.”

Erik couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How was this possible? He swallowed and stumbled backwards, then turned around and walked quickly out of the alley into the main street. He could feel Charles’ eyes on his back before he turned the corner. His heart was beating fast in his chest and he could hardly think straight. This was all too much. He needed to get away from Charles. He needed to think about what he’d just heard.

He made it to the classroom just in time, and sat down in his seat only seconds before Mr. Clarke closed the door behind him.

He was still sweating, his cheeks burning, his heart beating way too fast. None of this made any sense. Mind-reading wasn’t real. Talking to other people in their heads was something that happened in books or movies, but not in real life. But then, what had happened back in that street? It had to be real, what other explanation was there? And what was going on with him, Erik? He’d known for a long time that weird things happened around him when he got angry, so why couldn’t that be possible for Charles too?

About five minutes after class had started, Charles sneaked into the classroom, and sat down. Erik would have expected Mr. Clarke to say something, to reprimand Charles for being late, but he acted as though he hadn’t noticed him at all. Coincidence? Or another of Charles’ mind-tricks?

The morning dragged on. Erik was nervous and hyped up. He didn’t even think that he was scared of what Charles had shown him back in that alleyway, it was more…fascination. If it was true, and there was no other way to explain what he’d experienced back in the little street, what else could Charles do? What else did he know about Erik and about the weird things that happened around him?

He fixed his eyes on Charles’ head and thought very clearly and carefully:  _ CAN YOU HEAR ME? _

Charles flinched and turned around to look at Erik with big eyes, a very surprised look on his face. He then gave Erik a small smile and lifted a finger to his temple.

For the second time today, Erik heard Charles’ voice in his head. But this time it wasn’t vague like a thought, but totally clear as though Charles was speaking directly to him.

_ You’re shouting. Of course I can hear you. _

Erik didn’t even think about it. He grinned. This was amazing.

At lunch break, he slid out of the classroom before anyone else by habit and went into the lunchroom. He sat down at his usual empty table in the furthest corner, and had only just unwrapped his sandwich, when Charles slipped into the empty seat opposite him.

Only a day earlier, Erik would have told him to go away and leave him alone, but now he found he didn’t mind Charles’ company. In fact, he was eager to learn more about what Charles could do. 

As usual, Charles didn’t have any lunch with him, so Erik tore his sandwich in two and offered half of it to Charles. The smaller boy looked incredulously at him for a moment, then broke into the first real smile Erik had seen on him. It lit up his whole face, making his blue eyes shine more brightly than ever before.

Charles ate hungrily, savoring the boring peanut butter sandwich as though it was a feast, then looked at Erik again with bright eyes.

“Your mind is the loudest I’ve ever heard. You’re like a stereo turned up full volume. Even the first time your mind was so loud I could hear it before I saw you. Through the door. Just before you came in with Mr. Clarke.”

Erik didn’t know what to say. This was probably the weirdest day he’d ever had, and Charles had to be the most fascinating person in the world.

“It’s amazing what you can do,” he said at last, and he meant it. “Read minds. It’s a real gift.”

Charles shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t like it a lot of the time,” he said.

“What? Why not? It’s so cool!”

Erik could hardly believe that it was him speaking. Him, who wasn’t easily impressed and who’d sworn to hate everyone apart from his mother.  


Charles shook his head.

“It’s really not. I hear all sorts of things I’d rather not know. And I don’t know how to stop it. It drives me crazy sometimes. And sometimes I slip and project things or talk in somebody’s mind without meaning to, and it freaks them out. I like talking to you though,” he added with a small smile.

“But that’s it. You can’t just read minds, can you? You can also talk to other people in their heads. Maybe you can make them do things or change their minds, all sorts of stuff!”

The idea of being able to do any of those things seemed amazing. Charles, however, looked a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know. Maybe I could.” He shrugged. “But you, you made that garbage can move around. I can’t do anything like that. It was amazing!” 

“I’ve never moved anything because I wanted to though,” said Erik. “It’s only ever happened when I was angry. I don’t ever really  _ make _ it happen, you know? It  _ just _ happens.”

“I bet you could find out how to control it...maybe we both could!”

 


	3. 1.3 Elementary School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still love my beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight)!

_ Chapter 1.3 _

**Elementary School**

February - March 1992

 

Erik couldn’t really explain how it happened, but he suddenly found himself spending every free minute at school with Charles. And he was extremely surprised to find he enjoyed every moment of it. Charles was witty, clever and more interesting than any other person Erik had ever known before. And his special gift or ‘power,’ as they both started calling it very soon, had to be the most fascinating thing in the world. Charles, who loved to read anything that he got into his hands, soon came across a term which seemed to describe pretty perfectly what he could do: telepathy. With some practice, Erik got much better at talking telepathically to Charles without shouting at him, and so they started secretly communicating in class, laughing about idiotic things their classmates said, and backing each other up whenever one of them was taunted by one of the boys in their class. Erik wasn’t sure whether he was imagining it, but he also thought he was getting bullied less, or maybe it just didn’t sting as much anymore with someone by his side. It was amazing to not be alone anymore. Charles seemed to pick up on his emotions so easily that Erik never needed to tell him when he was angry or upset. This could have felt like an intrusion, but it somehow didn’t. No, it was wonderful to be able to share every part of himself with Charles.

What was frustrating though was that he still couldn’t move anything when he wanted to. There were moments when he doubted that there was anything special about him at all, but Charles was always quick to dispel his doubts again.

“I know you’re special,” he said, whenever he caught the slightest whiff of self-doubt from Erik. “I can sense it. We just need to find a way to unlock it.”

What surprised Erik the most, however, was that Charles seemed to genuinely like him as a person. Regardless of his gift, or his worn-out clothes, or that Charles’ family was extremely wealthy, and he was always dressed as if he was going to someone’s wedding. But there was something Erik didn’t understand.

“Why do you never have any lunch with you?” asked Erik one lunch break. He was once again sharing his sandwich with Charles, who, as always, ate it as though it was the most delicious thing in the world.

Charles blushed and shrugged, but he didn’t answer.

“Does your mother not give you any money for lunch?”

_ No. _

“Why not?”

Charles sighed.  _ The maid hands out the lunch money. _

Erik raised his eyebrows. The maid?  _ So why don’t you buy yourself some lunch then? _ he asked, also telepathically this time.

“Cain takes it,” Charles replied simply.

Erik looked at Charles, incredulous. He knew that Cain was Charles’ older stepbrother who went to the junior high school around the corner, and that they weren’t exactly friends. In fact, it had been Cain who’d attacked Charles on the way to school before Erik had found them. Cain had called Charles a freak, and he’d hit him. He was a brute and Erik hated him even more than all the idiots in their class. But Erik just couldn’t understand why Charles didn’t try and stop him. He was a telepath after all. Cain wouldn’t stand a chance against Charles.

Charles looked intently at him, a slightly hurt expression on his face.

“You know it doesn’t work like that. I don’t know how to stop him. I tried it once, but it wouldn’t work. It just made him go mental, because he knew that I’d tried something weird on him. And it would feel wrong anyway,” he added weakly.

It wasn’t long until Erik’s mother noticed a change in him too. Ten days after he’d helped Charles fend off his stepbrother, she brought it up at the dinner table.

“Are you enjoying school, Erik?”

He shrugged. “It’s all right.”

“Is Mr. Clarke a good teacher?”

“Don’t know. He’s okay, I guess.”

She looked at him. “I just noticed that you seem to be a lot happier going to school now. So it’s not the classes you like so much?”

He shrugged again.

She sighed. “Wow. Trying to get you to talk is like pulling teeth.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her pretend exasperation.

“I’ve made a friend,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

She stared at him. “A friend?” she said, weakly.

“Yeah. His name is Charles.”

“Charles?”

“Yeah.” He waited for a moment. “You don’t believe me,” he said then.

His mother suddenly pulled him close to her chest and hugged him so tightly it almost hurt.

“Mom!”

“Erik that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed once she’d let go of him again. She looked happier than he’d seen her in two years. “Is he in your class?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, tell me more about him! Where is he from? Do I get to meet him?”

“I don’t know where he lives. And I can’t just bring him here, mom.”

“Why not? Ask him tomorrow! Maybe the two of you can spend some time over the weekend. If his parents don’t object.”

They didn’t, and only two days later on Saturday, Charles was sitting next to Erik at the table in their tiny flat, happily chatting away.

Erik’s mother loved him straight away. He was charming and sociable, complimenting her cooking as well as her hair, and insisted on helping her with the dishes, even though it seemed like he’d never done it before and was more of a hindrance than a help.

After lunch they retreated to Erik’s bedroom. Charles slumped down on Erik’s bed, looking happily around the tiny room. There wasn’t much in it. It was pretty much packed with only the bed and a wardrobe. The only toys Erik owned, an old teddy bear and an assortment of carved wooden animals were sitting on the floor next to Erik’s bed.

“I love your home,” said Charles.

Erik blushed. “It’s really nothing special. I bet your bedroom is much larger and you have more toys than me.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Charles nodded. “But the only things I like are my books and my chessboard, even though I don’t really have anyone to play with. Jack, the butler, sometimes plays with me, but he doesn’t have a lot of time and he’s not very good anyway.”

“What’s a chessboard?”

Charles’ eyes widened. “You don’t know what chess is?”

“I bet it’s something only posh people play,” said Erik a little defiantly.

Charles frowned. “Maybe. But it’s a lot of fun, it really is! I’ll teach you, then we can play together!”

It didn’t take long for Charles to become a part of the Lehnsherr household. There was hardly a time when he wasn’t there. He met Erik before class at the school yard, then followed him home after school every day, and stayed until Erik’s mother knocked on the door to tell them it was time for Charles to leave. Since she wouldn’t let Charles walk home on his own in the dark, all three of them put on their coats and shoes, and walked the 15 minutes to the gate of the estate where Charles lived. Erik tried to catch a glimpse of Charles’ house once, but as far as his eye could see there was nothing but grass, trees and a small road behind the tall hedges. He wondered how big Charles’ house must be if the garden was already more like a park, but Charles just shrugged and blushed, when Erik asked him.

“I prefer your home,” he said simply.

Whenever Erik’s mother allowed it, Charles stayed the night. She wouldn’t have minded him staying every night, she liked having him in the house, but she felt bad about Charles not seeing enough of his own mother, even though he told her that she wouldn’t even notice if he didn’t come home. Every time she did allow him to stay over, she personally called his mother to tell her she needn’t worry, but always just reached the maid. When she would put down the phone, she’d just look at Charles with something Erik thought might be pity, but never say anything.

Erik loved it when Charles was there. They mostly sat on the floor in Erik’s room, talking to each other telepathically, testing out the boundaries of what Charles could do, and placing different objects on Erik’s bed, which he then tried to push off with his power. Erik didn’t think he’d ever had as much fun in his life.

The first time Charles stayed over, Erik’s mother made a bed out of blankets on the floor for Charles, but he climbed into Erik’s bed as soon as she’d closed the door behind her, and they whispered to each other until they both fell asleep next to each other. From then on, she didn’t bother to make a bed for Charles, but tucked them both in next to each other in Erik’s bed.


	4. 1.4 Elementary School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweetest beta: [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight).

_ Chapter 1.4 _

**Elementary School**

March 1992

 

During Spring Break Erik’s mother agreed to let Charles stay for the whole week. They picked him up on Saturday morning at the gate of his home and helped him carry his suitcase to their apartment. 

Back in Erik’s room, Charles unpacked a wooden board and emptied a bag of dark and light wooden figures onto it.

“Chess,” he said with a grin.

It was ridiculously complicated at first, but after a few games Erik got the hang of it. And he loved it. After dinner they went straight back into Erik’s room and they played and played, only interrupted when Erik’s mother came bursting in at 1am, horrified that she’d fallen asleep and forgotten to send them to bed.

They played chess every day, and Erik got better and better at it. On Wednesday, he actually beat Charles for the first time. But rather than being disappointed he’d lost, Charles was thrilled, teasing about how he finally had an opponent who could keep up with him.

They practiced controlling their powers a lot too. Charles had gotten so good at his telepathy, he’d started sending Erik mental images instead of just words. At first they were smudges and blurs, but soon he could hardly tell them from the real thing. Even though Charles was still unsure about using his power to control other people’s minds, Erik was adamant he practiced that too. And so he sat there for minutes at a time, while Charles knelt before him, his face screwed up and his finger pressed against his temple, trying to make Erik lift his hand.

For two days, nothing happened, but on Tuesday, after minutes of looking into Charles’ scrunched up face, a sudden strange blankness overcame Erik. It was as though his mind was wrapped in cotton wool. Nothing mattered and nothing existed anymore. He floated in space, not a care in the world, before all of a sudden, his bedroom reappeared and so did Charles, gaping at him. Erik noticed that he was no longer sitting opposite Charles but standing on top of his bed, his arms stretched out widely. 

He jumped down and stared at his friend in amazement. “Did you make me do this?”

Charles nodded, looking perplexed.

Erik laughed out loud. “Brilliant!” he exclaimed. “Amazing! Let’s do it again.”

This time Charles was able to do it straightaway. It was as though he’d always been able to do it, and had only needed to unlock it.

“You know you could make your stupid stepbrother do whatever you want him to do, right?” said Erik, grinning widely.

Charles frowned and shrugged. “Not sure,” he said. “Let me try one more time.”

Erik wished he’d have made as much progress, but he wasn’t even able to move small objects every time he tried. Whenever they placed Charles’ watch on Erik’s nightstand he could push it away easily, but he hadn’t been able to move any of the chess pieces at all. It drove him crazy. And then, one time he tried to knock over one of the white rooks again, he pushed his bedside lamp off the nightstand instead and the bulb shattered. 

Angrily he sprang to his feet and gave the nightstand a frustrated kick. “It’s never going to work! I just can’t do it!” he yelled.

Charles looked thoughtful.

“Let me try something,” he said, and before Erik could react he’d slipped out of the bedroom. Within a few minutes he was back, placing a fork, a plastic spoon, a button, a bread knife, and a clothespin on the blanket on Erik’s bed. “Try and move them. Left to right.”

Frowning, Erik knelt down again, stretched out his hands and concentrated very hard on pushing the fork away. Immediately, as it always happened with Charles’ watch, Erik could sense the fork from afar, and easily shoved it from the bed. The spoon, however, just remained where it was. However hard Erik tried, he just couldn’t  _ sense _ it the same way he’d sensed the fork. Same with the button. After a few attempts he gave up, already sweating and frustrated, and turned toward the knife. As soon as he’d stretched out his senses, he could  _ feel _ that it was there, and he gave it a soft push which sent it right off the bed. It was so easy. Why didn’t it work every time?

Erik shook his head in frustration, and shot Charles a glance. For some reason his friend was smiling brightly.

“What?” asked Erik, a little annoyed.

“Try the clothespin,” said Charles, pointing at it. “Tell me whether you can sense the whole thing, or maybe just parts of it.”

_ "What?" _ This was getting really annoying. What on earth was that supposed to mean? 

“Go on!” said Charles with an encouraging smile.

Still slightly bugged, Erik turned toward the clothespin and stretched out his hands. Just as Charles had said he felt his way around the small object, trying to sense it like he always did. What he felt surprised him, however, because it didn’t feel like a clothespin at all. In fact, all he felt was the little metal coil which held the wooden parts together.

_ I knew it! _

Charles’ telepathic voice made Erik jump and the clothespin slipped off the bed. He turned around to look at Charles, confused.

“What? What do you mean?”

Grinning, Charles leaped to his feet to fish out the clothespin behind Erik’s bed. He held it up triumphantly, looking at Erik with an expectant expression. Erik was starting to feel increasingly bemused.

“What?” he said for what felt like the hundredth time today.

Charles slumped down next to Erik again, handing him the clothespin. “What did you feel?”

Erik sighed. “You know what I felt. This little coil. But why–”

“Well, what does that little coil have in common with the other objects you were able to sense? A fork, a knife, my watch, the shade of your bedside lamp. A pair of scissors,” he added with a little laugh. “Something the chess pieces, that spoon and the button don’t have.”

Erik looked down at the little object in his hand, softly running his thumb over it. The coil reacted to his touch, vibrating slightly, almost imperceptibly. This wasn’t an unknown sensation to Erik. In fact, thinking back he’d felt it so often it had become normal to him. He’d felt it whenever he’d put his hand on a door latch, picked up the cutlery at dinner, or held on to the poles on the bus. Erik stared at the clothespin in his hand, incredulous. It was as though those things had always spoken to him. How had he not realized this?

“Metal,” he whispered.

Charles beamed at him.

Erik slowly got to his feet and turned around on the spot, taking in everything in his tiny bedroom. He stopped facing the door and stretched out his hands, like he always did, concentrating with all his might on the door latch, reaching out for it with his senses. For the first time (or maybe not for the first time, in a way this felt as though he’d been doing this without his own knowledge all his life) he felt his way around the metal object, grasping it without touching it, and, as easily as if he’d always known how to do it, pressed down the handle, then gave it a soft push. The door sprang open at once. A wave of pride and joy overcame Erik, and it wasn’t just his own. Charles was projecting. Erik pulled his hands closer to his body again and the door clicked shut. Elated, he turned around to face the fallen bedside lamp on the floor and lifted it back onto the nightstand, then picked up the other metal objects, the fork and knife from the floor too, and dropped them onto the bed again. This was amazing! It was as though something he’s been keeping locked up inside him had finally broken free. Exhilarated, he now turned toward his wardrobe, effortlessly grasping the key. However, as he tried to turn it in its lock, it slipped out of his grasp and fell to the floor. Erik stared at it for a moment, taken by surprise. In his euphoria it had seemed as though he could do anything with his power for a moment.

_ Turning must be harder than pushing. Try again! _

Erik nodded, glancing at Charles who gave him an encouraging smile. He stretched out his hands again and felt for the key on the floor. He found it at once and very carefully lifted it in the air. He didn’t have a good enough grip on it, however, and wasn’t able to direct it precisely enough to fit it back into the lock. After a few tries he let it drop to the floor again, already feeling the frustration come back.

_ You just need practice, Erik. You can’t expect it to work straightaway. This is already amazing! _

An image of Erik opening and closing the door without touching it appeared in Erik’s mind. It really did look amazing from Charles’ perspective. Erik felt better at once.

“Let me try again,” he said.


	5. 1.5 Elementary School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, my wonderful beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight)!

_ Chapter 1.5 _

**Elementary School**

May - June 1992

 

The school year went on, becoming warmer and sunnier,  Charles and Erik getting better and better at using their powers. By June Erik had no problem anymore picking up small metal objects and directing them as precisely as if he was using his own hands, if not more. Turning a key in a lock was no problem at all. He even found out that he could do things with his power that he couldn’t do with his hands, like shaping metal objects. He found this out accidentally when he played around with a fork one day and inadvertently turned it into a lump. Charles encouraged him to try make it into something else, but the dog that he’d wanted to make looked nothing like an animal at all. His artistic skills definitely left room for improvement.

Life was good. The boys in his class still picked on him sometimes, but they seemed to slowly lose interest, as he and Charles spent day after day working at improving their powers and got more and more confident about using them. It was as though all of Erik’s past problems were slowly fading away. He had a friend, and he felt special. He and Charles were the ones who were outstanding amongst their ordinary classmates. None of them could do what they could do. And, according to Charles, their minds were bland and superficial, unlike Erik’s, which stood out like a beacon in the dark compared to them. So, all in all, Erik could honestly say he was happier than he’d been in a long time.

There was only one thing that still both irritated and worried him.

Even though Charles, too, seemed happy whenever he was around Erik, he still never had any money to buy himself lunch. And every now and again, his nose would be bleeding or he would have a few cuts or bruises. Erik was certain that this was all Cain’s doing, yet Charles didn’t seem to want to do anything about it, even though he now had a ridiculous amount of control over his telepathy. Every now and again Erik let him practice his mind control on him, and every time Charles slipped so easily in and out of Erik’s consciousness, that Erik was convinced that Charles would have no problem at all stopping Cain from bullying him.

One morning Charles was late for school. Erik waited for him on the school yard until the very last minute before he went inside, wondering what could have kept his friend. About five minutes late, Charles slipped into the classroom, without Mr. Clarke noticing. Erik caught a glimpse of his face before he slumped down on his chair. He was sporting a large and bloody cut on his eyebrow, and his lip was swollen.

_ What happened? _

_ Nothing, Erik. _ Charles was trying to project reassurance, but some of his discomfort and humiliation trickled through.

_ Cain? _

A telepathic sigh.  _ It’s all right, Erik. It doesn’t matter. _

Erik felt anger rise in his chest. He was doing nothing to hide it, and he knew Charles must have picked up on it.  _  ‘It doesn’t matter?’ Why do you let him treat you like that? _

For a moment there was only silence from Charles. Then he replied, but his telepathic voice was less resolute, more timid than usual.  _ You wouldn’t understand. _

This hurt more than Erik liked to admit. They understood each other perfectly. It was part of who they were.

Charles obviously had picked up on this feeling of his too.  _ Look, Erik. It’s not his fault. _

_ Not whose—? Not Cain’s fault? Are you kidding right now? _

Another sigh.  _ There’s so much you don’t know. It’s not easy for him. _

_ What do you mean? _

_ I know his mind. In and out. He’s not happy. _

Erik shook his head slightly, incredulous.  _ And that gives him the right to hurt you? _

_ It’s not his fault,  _ repeated Charles.

Whatever Charles said, Erik wasn’t so quick to accept and forgive Cain’s behavior. He found it impossible to just watch quietly as his best and only friend in the world was repeatedly bullied and hurt.

Since he met Charles every day on the school yard, he knew what time approximately he and Cain parted on the street outside. From the elementary school it was just a short two minute walk to the junior high school, but Erik knew when Cain would be walking it alone, and he also knew the spot which would be best suited for what he had planned.

One Tuesday morning he waited, hidden behind a corner, for Cain to pass, and, when he heard steps approaching, jumped out in front of him. Cain looked taken aback for a moment, but not scared in the least. Why would he be? He was almost a head taller than Erik and about twice as wide. When he took a closer look, however, he appeared a little nervous at least.

“You’re that weirdo,” he said. “The freak who hangs around with my stupid stepbrother.”

Erik didn’t answer. He stretched out his hands, feeling for any metal on Cain’s body. He was wearing a gold watch and a belt with a metal fastening.

“What are you doing, freak?” Cain took a step toward him, his body tensing, clearly ready to strike Erik.

Erik gripped the fastening of Cain’s belt tightly and pushed it away with all the strength that he could muster. Cain stumbled backwards, against the wired fence which bordered the yard of an empty building between the two schools. This was exactly what Erik had planned. He reached out to the wires, pulling them toward him and forcing their ends around Cain’s wrists and ankles.

“What are you doing?  _ Stop  _ it, _ freak!” _

Erik walked toward Cain until his nose almost touched the larger boy’s chin when Erik lifted his head to look at him. He could see the fear in Cain’s eyes now. This was something beyond the boy’s control, and he knew it. Erik reached out his hand again and pulled a few more wires forward before he bent them until the tips were all pointing directly at Cain’s face.

The large boy was definitely scared now. He squirmed, trying to wiggle out of his shackles and get away from the wires almost touching his face, but Erik had set them too tight.

“What do you want?” he stammered. “Let me go!”

“I will,” said Erik calmly. He’d never felt so in control of a situation before. He knew exactly what he was doing. “As long as you do what I tell you.”

“Yes! Dammit, yes! What the fuck do you want?!” Cain spluttered quickly. 

“You leave Charles alone. You don’t touch him. You don’t take his money. If you ever hurt him again, I’ll come after you. And then I will hurt you. Understand?”

“Yes! Yes, I do! I’ll leave him alone! I promise!”

There was sweat on Cain’s forehead and he was breathing quickly and heavily. Erik looked at him for a moment, then took a few steps backwards and stretched his arms out once more to feel for the wires and pull them off of Cain.

The large boy toppled over onto the ground, gasping and whimpering, before he scrambled to his feet again and fled, not looking back once.

Erik looked after him. This had worked well. Far better than he’d expected. As if the anger at Charles’ stepbrother for what he’d done enhanced his powers even more.

After Cain had disappeared around the next corner, Erik went back too. Charles was waiting for him.

As he got nearer to the school yard, Erik could already feel Charles’ mind reaching out to him, as it always did. It was like a soft tap on the shoulder and a whisper in his ear.

Then, suddenly, it broke off.

Erik stopped dead in his tracks. This had never happened before. What was going on? Had anything happened to Charles? Without hesitating another moment he sped off toward the school, turned the corner, and—

There was Charles, waiting in the same spot as always, clearly well and unhurt. 

Confused, but relieved, Erik slowed down again and continued to walk toward his friend. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What happened to your telepathy?”

Charles didn’t speak. Only now did Erik notice the look on his face. His teeth were clenched, and his lips thinner than Erik had ever seen them. He was glaring at Erik.

“Charles?” he asked uncertainly. He’d never seen his friend angry before. He hadn’t even known that Charles, sweet and understanding Charles, could get angry at all.

“Why did you do it?” Charles spat out. His fists were clenched too. He looked livid.

“What?”

“Cain!”

“He hurt you!”

Charles took a deep, shaky breath. “That was none of your business,” he said in a trembling voice, clearly just keeping himself from shouting. “I told you it’s not his fault. So why did you have to interfere?”

“Someone needed to teach him. And you wouldn’t–”

“This is  _ my _ life, Erik!  _ My _ stepbrother!” He really was shouting now. “And he’s going to hate  _ me _ now, just because of something  _ you _ did!”

A few students who were crossing the school yard threw them alarmed looks.

_ "So what?” _ Erik was starting to get angry too. Angry and defiant. “Were you hoping he’d like you? Open your eyes, Charles. He never liked you! Why do you care anyway? Why do you need  _ him?" _

_ Am I not enough? _ he added mentally. But Charles had already turned around and stormed off toward the entrance.

When Erik entered the classroom, Charles already sat at his desk, pointedly not looking at him. Erik was fuming. This was so unfair! He’d done this for Charles, to help him, protect him from his maniac of a stepbrother, because he cared. And now Charles was acting as though Erik was the villain.  _ He _ wasn’t the one who bullied others just because he could. Why couldn’t Charles see this?

After about an hour, Erik’s anger had already faded considerably. Even though he still didn’t understand what on earth he’d done wrong, he had to admit that he missed Charles, missed talking to his friend, sharing his thoughts with him. Without Charles’ presence in his mind he felt lonely and empty. He still didn’t understand why Charles cared whether Cain liked him or not, however. He had Erik, didn’t he? Shouldn’t that be enough? Erik never cared whether anyone liked him. Well, anyone except Charles. He cared very much whether Charles liked him or not. But Charles was absolutely enough for  _ him. He _ didn’t need anybody else. And it hurt, it hurt so much that Charles didn’t feel the same way about him.

He sent a tentative  _ Charles? _ in his friend’s direction, but he got no reaction at all. Charles was either ignoring him or had blocked out his mind, even though Erik wasn’t sure whether Charles actually knew how to do the latter. He’d never done it before. And he for sure hadn’t been able to do it a few months earlier.

When the bell rang at lunchtime, Charles slipped out of the classroom so quickly, Erik didn’t even have time to properly get up from his seat. He almost ran out of the classroom after his friend, but Charles was nowhere to be seen in the corridor. Disappointed and upset, Erik walked to the lunchroom alone for the first time in months.

Charles sat at their usual table on the corner of the room, looking at his hands, while the room around him slowly filled with students. Taking a deep breath, Erik walked up to him and sat down opposite him. When Charles didn’t look up to acknowledge his presence, Erik took out his sandwich, tore it in two, and pushed half of it over to Charles. Charles stared at it for a moment as if he’d never seen half a sandwich before, then he glanced at Erik for the first time since their fight. He looked upset, and all of a sudden Erik felt bad in spite of himself.

“Can we be friends again?” he pleaded.

Charles took the sandwich and gave Erik a timid smile. He nodded. “Okay.”

And that was it. They didn’t talk about the incident again until later that same night. Charles accompanied Erik home as usual. They played chess, talked telepathically and laughed together until Erik’s mother knocked on Erik’s bedroom door to tell them it was time for dinner. They talked her into letting Charles stay the night and she called the maid at his house to inform her that Charles wouldn’t return home until the next day.

After another round of chess, it was time for them to scramble into bed. Erik’s mother tucked them in and gave them both a goodnight kiss, before she switched off the light and left the room.

Erik was already half asleep, when Charles’ mind poked him awake once more. 

_ Erik? _

_ Hmm? _

_ You’re right. I don’t need anyone else. _

Charles snuggled up closer to him, burying his face in Erik’s shoulder. Within minutes he was breathing deeply, asleep. Erik, however, lay awake for a long time, his heart beating hard and fast in his chest, glowing with happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends, this was part one. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> It might take a few days until I'm ready to start uploading part two. Not long though! Stay with me! <333


	6. 2.1 Junior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends, I'm back. Here is Part Two. Enjoy!
> 
> I'm eternally grateful for my wonderful beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight)!

**_PART TWO_ **

 

_ Chapter 2.1 _

**Junior High School**

August - September 1994

 

“I don‘t want the holidays to end,” sighed Charles. “I don‘t want to go back to school.”

They were lying underneath the cherry tree in a meadow not far from Erik’s apartment, cheek to cheek, the tops of their heads touching each other’s shoulders, their legs stretched out in the sweet-smelling grass.

Erik turned his head a little, so he could see his friend’s face. His nose was almost touching Charles’ cheek. “Cain won’t be there anymore though. He’s off to senior high. That’s good, isn’t it?”

Charles sighed again. “I guess. I still don’t want the holidays to end though. All this,” he gestured around the sunlit meadow surrounding them. “It’s so nice. I could just lie here all day.”

As he spoke, his cheek moved and softly touched the tip of Erik’s nose. 

Erik’s lips inadvertently curled into a small smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

It was the last day of August. They’d be back at school the next day, starting grade seven, and Erik just had the most wonderful few weeks of his life. August had been warm, but not too hot, hardly any rainy days, and he and Charles had spent every single day together. Not to mention that Charles had practically moved in with Erik and his mother, and had returned home only a few times because Erik’s mother had insisted he went to see his own mother from time to time. They’d spent their days mostly outside, in the fields near Erik’s apartment or at the small lake nearby, and they hadn’t had to care about anyone else. It had just been him and Charles, and sometimes Erik’s mother, laughing, playing chess, talking, working on their powers, dozing, but always together.

Erik didn’t even want to think about having to go back to school, and having to endure all the idiots there, but it made him happy that Charles felt the same way.

 

Going back to school was always weird in some way, but at least there wasn’t much new this year. They still had the same teacher for one, an elderly woman by the name of Mrs. Cole. She was sweet and caring, but her teaching was so dull that nobody in their class ever managed to listen longer than five minutes at a stretch.

This had never been a problem for Erik and Charles though. Erik could never get bored while Charles was around. Most of last year they’d spent their classes talking to each other telepathically or playing little games. Charles had actually gotten quite good at telepathically conjuring up a game of Master Mind for him, which Erik then tried to solve. Sometimes Erik would shape some piece of metal (like a tablespoon from the lunchroom) into a small animal and let it move all over the desk. Charles loved these little games, he loved everything about Erik’s powers, but in school they also made him nervous. He’d try and shield the animal from view, terrified that any of their classmates might notice.

Erik understood where his fear came from. Their classmates would definitely be scared if they saw something like that, something  _ freaky, _ which they couldn’t understand. But nevertheless, the fact that Charles thought that this meant they had to hide their powers from everyone else and pretend to be as normal and boring as them annoyed him more than a little. They were better than their classmates. Should it really be his and Charles’ problem that the others were too idiotic, too  _ normal _ to understand?

Erik wasn’t worried about missing anything important while he and Charles were lost in their own little world. Charles was so clever that he didn’t need to pay attention anyway, and so far he’d been able to explain anything they came across to Erik as well. In fact, even though Erik had never been less attentive in class than since he and Charles had become friends, his marks had actually improved. Not least because during tests he often managed to convince Charles to telepathically share answers to questions he didn’t know, even though Charles didn’t approve of cheating.

“Oh come on. It’s not like it’s your own knowledge,” Erik had said after a test at the end of the previous year. “You must be getting a lot of your answers from other people as well. Or directly from the teachers.” Erik had laughed loudly at this incredible and wonderful thought.

But Charles had glared at him. “Is this what you think? That I’m only this good because I cheat all the time?”

“What? No!” Taken aback, Erik had stared at his friend. “No, I don’t think you’re cheating. You’re just using your own abilities to solve the test. Just like everyone else. I think that’s fair.”

Charles had shaken his head in disbelief. “Oh fantastic,” he’d said sarcastically. “Great to know what you think of me. For your information: I’ve never  _ ever _ stolen any answers from anyone. I actually understand this stuff, you know?”

And with that he’d turned around and stomped off.

They had those kind of fights every now and again. One moment they’d be laughing about something and the next Charles would be angry (without any apparent reason) about something Erik had said or done. Other times Charles would say something absolutely idiotic, which would make Erik shake his head in disbelief and point out where Charles was wrong. Sometimes this would lead to a heated discussion, other times Charles would glare at him and leave, cheeks burning, slamming the door behind him.

Most times their arguments were about how and when they were and weren’t supposed to use their powers. Erik thought the whole argument was ridiculous. Their powers were a gift, and they’d be idiots not to use them as often as possible. Charles was more reluctant. He often worried about making other people uncomfortable or causing them to dislike him for what he could do, which was why he was very careful about how and when he used his telepathy.

In Erik’s opinion this was a little ridiculous. People were idiots. Why would anyone care what they thought of them? And when Charles brought morals into the argument, Erik just lost it. Why should it be immoral to use their powers when they needed them? What an absurd idea.

But they never stayed angry at one another for long. Erik’s frustration always evaporated the moment that Charles turned his back on him. It was a terrible feeling, not talking to Charles. Whenever they’d fought and Charles didn’t speak to him, Erik was afraid that this time he’d gone too far, that this time he’d lost his best and only friend. His ally. The one person who understood and even _ liked _ him. But luckily most times it didn’t take longer than a few hours for one of them to come looking for the other, holding out a hand to shake, or just sitting down next to him. Everything was back to the way it should be.

Since it was the last night before the first day of school, Charles wasn’t allowed to sleep over.

“You both need to get some rest. And if Charles stays the night, I know you won’t be sleeping before midnight,” said Edie, looking at them from the steaming pot on the stove. “No, definitely not.”

He was allowed stay for dinner, however. And afterwards the two of them lounged in Erik’s bedroom for a while before Charles had to go.

They sat facing each other on the window sill, the window wide open, tempting in the light summer breeze, just like every night during those last few weeks.

Charles was looking more than a little glum, but Erik knew how to cheer his friend up. He stole a glance at his nightstand, where he kept  a small metal bird. Erik had crafted it himself the previous week, out of a fork he’d stolen from the kitchen. If he was honest with himself, he’d done it mostly (if not only) to see the look on Charles’ face as he watched Erik. Now he reached out with his power to lift the little animal and flit it gently into the air. Tiny wings flapping, it flew towards himself and Charles.

When Charles spotted the little bird flying towards him, his face broke into a wide smile. Erik made the bird flutter around his friend’s head a few times, before landing it on Charles’ shoulder. Charles, smiling even more, offered his hand to let Erik hop the tiny bird onto him. Laughter spilled from both of them when it began nibbling on his fingers.

_ You’re amazing. _

Erik was glad that Charles wasn’t looking at him, smile stuck on the bird, oblivious to the blush staining his cheeks.

Before he could answer he heard his mother’s call from the kitchen, and Charles hopped off the window sill quickly, placing the tiny metal bird back on Erik’s nightstand.


	7. 2.2 Junior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the best beta: [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight)!

_ Chapter 2.2 _

**Junior High School**

16 October 1994

 

Even though Erik had dreaded the start of the new school year, he’d gotten used to the situation very soon. After all, there wasn’t anything new: he and Charles spent every second at school together, school was boring, their classmates were idiots, and it was all okay as long as he had his best friend by his side.

Sooner than he’d thought, October came and brought fall and Erik’s birthday. For once, October 16 fell on a Sunday, which meant that Charles was staying at Erik’s apartment.

“Happy birthday!”

Erik was woken rather suddenly and cruelly by a pillow hitting his head. Groaning, he grabbed it and tossed it back at Charles who grinned.

“Thirteen! You’re getting old!”

Erik gave a sleepy laugh, rubbing his eyes. “Shut up,” he said.

Laughing, Charles jumped off the bed, scurried over to his bag in his pajamas and bent down to rummage in it. After a moment he reappeared, carrying two presents, which he tossed at Erik. “I’ve got something for you.”

One of the presents was large and flat, the other one a little smaller and bulky, but both were wrapped in cheesy wrapping paper covered in gold roses.

Erik looked at his friend, incredulous. Charles laughed. “It was the only wrapping paper in the house, I promise. I did not choose this myself.”

_ You don’t have to get me anything. _

_ You say this every time, Erik. Just shut up. _ He pointed at the presents. “Go on, open them!”

“What? Now?”

Rolling his eyes, Charles climbed back into bed and sat down next to him. Erik picked up the smaller packet first. Out of habit he used his powers to feel for anything metal inside it first. There were several small metal things in it. Could they be–

Charles grinned, clearly catching on to Erik’s thoughts, and Erik tore the packet open. Out fell a linen bag. Erik picked it up to peer inside, his heart beating fast, even though he knew exactly what he would find. He stuck his hand inside and pulled out a small metal figurine of a horse. It was obvious to him now what had to be in the other packet.

“Your own chess set,” said Charles with a wide smile, as soon as the thought had formed properly enough in Erik’s mind for him to pick up. “I thought it would be cool if you could move the pieces without touching them.”

“How did you buy this?” Erik’s voice was weak. This was the most amazing gift he’d ever received from anyone, but he was also once more painfully aware of the fact that this was something that his own mother could never afford to buy for him.

“I didn’t,” said Charles quickly. “Honestly, this isn’t even new. I found it in a box in the attic. I’m quite sure nobody in my family even knew that it existed. I asked my mother and she said I could do with it whatever I wanted. They don’t play chess anyway. This is a much better home for it.”

Erik still gazed, stunned, at the small figurine in his hand, and Charles began to laugh. “Go on, unwrap the board!”

By rich people’s standards the chessboard was probably rather ordinary, but Erik thought it looked simply magnificent. It was made of dark and light wood, with tiny little ornaments framing the field. By the feel of them the pieces were made of real silver, the white ones smooth and shiny, the black ones brushed dark.

With slightly trembling hands, Erik floated them onto the board and in place. Then he sat gazing at the magnificent sight, hardly able to believe that this was all his now. After a few moments, he looked up at Charles who was smiling.  _ Fancy a game? _

Charles grinned.  _ Definitely. If you can stand losing on your birthday. _

“As if. I’ll wipe you off the board.”

Erik wouldn’t have thought it possible, but chess was even more fun with metal pieces. He made them float over the board, reveling in Charles’ amusement every time he knocked over one of his pieces with his powers, sending them spinning into the air and fall into Charles’ lap.

Nevertheless, he didn’t wipe Charles off the board. Not even close. He lost more badly than he’d done in a long time, probably due to the fact that he was too distracted with showing off his powers to his friend. Well, next time then.

They were just setting up the pieces for a rematch, when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Where’s my birthday boy?”

“Mom, I’m already thirteen.”

“Hush, you’re still my boy.”

Erik rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but allowed his mother to pull him into a tight hug and place a kiss on his cheek.

It was the best birthday he’d ever had. The weather was nice so they went straight outside after breakfast, chasing each other around the meadow covered in red and gold, jumping, both giggling, into mountains of leaves and trying to dig each other in. As Erik was taller than Charles, his friend had very soon almost disappeared under piles of crisp leaves. Laughing, almost breathless from it, Charles grabbed Erik by his collar and pulled him down. Erik toppled right on top of his friend, and they rolled off the heap, laughing loudly. They came to a halt in the mud, leaves strewn around them, Erik on his back, Charles  breathless, half on top of Erik and almost nose-to-nose with him.

Neither looked away, and the moment seemed infinite.

But in the next they both jumped up again, and an angry voice started shouting at them to “get away and stop making such a mess.” They bolted, giggling madly, as they spotted an old man half-running-half-limping towards them, brandishing a rake and yelling furiously.

Back inside Erik arranged the chessboard again and they played two games (one of which Erik won), interrupted only once by Edie bringing them two mugs of steaming hot chocolate and a plate of cookies.

In the afternoon they joined her at the dining table again, where she served the most delicious birthday cake (it was his mother’s, so he was absolutely right). Charles, with his unrelenting sweet tooth, savored it as though he’d never tasted anything like it to the delight of Edie. They ate almost the entire cake, leaving only two pieces which she promised to pack for tomorrow’s lunch.

She had gotten him mostly clothes for his birthday, which was good because the old ones were worn through, but also an envelope with a small amount of money, so he could get himself a little treat. Erik hugged her tightly. He knew it was hard getting any presents for him at all.

She marveled at the chessboard and the detail of the chess pieces, insisting that she’d never seen anything as pretty, which made Charles blush and mumble.

Dinner too, was amazing. His mother had outdone herself, cooking up roast chicken, which was Erik’s favorite. They sat together afterwards, chatting away happily, until Erik’s mother sent him and Charles into the bathroom to brush their teeth before they had to go to bed.

The fact that Charles was allowed to sleep over even though the next day was a school day rounded off the already perfect day, and they fell asleep next to each other, Charles’ face buried in Erik’s shoulder like always.


	8. 2.3 Junior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), who also wrote a part for this chapter (see notes at the end)!

_ Chapter 2.3 _

**Junior High School**

November 1994

 

_ "'As many more individuals of each species are born than can possibly survive; and as, consequently, there is a frequently recurring struggle for existence, it follows that any being, if it vary however slightly in any manner profitable to itself, under the complex and sometimes varying conditions of life, will have a better chance of surviving, and thus be naturally selected. From the strong principle of inheritance, any selected variety will tend to propagate its new and modified form.’" _

They were, once again, in Erik’s bedroom. Charles sat on the floor, cross-legged, his back resting against Erik’s bed, looking at him expectantly, excitement shining in his eyes. 

Erik’s mind, however, was blank. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He glanced at the old, leather-clad book in Charles’ lap. “Why are you reading that? It sounds boring.”

“It’s  _ 'On the Origin of Species,'" _ Charles replied, obviously a little disappointed by Erik’s reaction. “By Charles Darwin. And this is probably an original too. If my stepfather finds out I’ve taken this...I guess it’s worth a lot.”

“What’s  _ ‘On the Origin of Species?’" _ asked Erik, feeling more than a little stupid. “Am I supposed to know this?”

“Well, it’s the original theory of evolution,” said Charles with a small smile. “You know what evolution is, don’t you?” He added with a frown.

“I guess?” replied Erik a little defensively. “I know that humans evolved from apes...and that...different kinds of animals have things in common because they evolved from the same ancestors...?” He blushed, unsure. Charles always knew everything, which made Erik sometimes feel like a small child being lectured by a teacher, even though he was almost a year older than his friend.

Charles beamed. “Right!” he said. “That’s what this book is about. It’s Darwin’s original idea. How everything, all species, plants and animals, slowly evolved over time. This went completely against the idea of Creationism. Which was what everyone believed back then. That everything was created by God.” He said the last awkwardly, always trying to make sure to be respectful about Erik’s faith. “And even now there are still people who believe Darwin was wrong.” He shook his head incredulously. “Anyway. Darwin says that new species have developed and gone extinct all the time and it’s still happening today! Basically, he says it’s all about survival and reproduction. By chance, a new form of a species, with a new trait like, I don’t know, longer legs or something, will develop, and if it’s weaker than the others, it won’t survive and reproduce, but if its new trait gives it an advantage, it will be more successful at reproduction and in time this new form might replace the old one. And that’s what evolution is.”

“Right...” Erik still had no idea what Charles was getting at.

“Erik, this is what’s happening to us!”

“What do you–?”

_ We’re the next stage of evolution. _ Charles looked at him intently, a light excited blush on his cheeks.  _ We’re the new, improved humans. _

Erik raised his eyebrows, and Charles broke into a wide smile. “It’s not an illness at all. It’s nothing bad. It’s like–” He took a deep breath. “Like, first, all life was in the water, and then, suddenly, there were animals that could breathe outside of the water because they were born with something like lungs. That was weird, right? It was weird, but great! What’s going on with us is weird, but it’s a good thing!”

Erik looked incredulously at his friend. “Of course it’s not an illness! How can you even think that? We can do things that none of our classmates can do. They’re just boring. We’re so much better than them.”

Charles smiled but didn’t reply.

“What?” asked Erik, a little irritated.

_ I know you’ve been afraid of it too. I’m just glad you’re not anymore. _

Erik opened his mouth to object, but closed it again almost straight away. There was no use pretending in front of Charles. He’d read it in Erik’s mind and he’d know if Erik was lying. So he tried to change the subject instead. “Why do these things happen though?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did animals suddenly have lungs? And why can we do these things? What does Darwin say about that?”

Charles frowned again. “Not much,” he admitted. “He only gave the general idea of evolution, and I haven’t gotten around to looking up what has been done since then. They should really teach us this stuff in Biology, but all we do is compare the leaves of different trees.” He sighed. “I know it’s got to do with genetics though.”

“Sorry?”

“Genetics,” Charles repeated, and, after taking a glance at the blank look on Erik’s face, he went on. “It’s sort of the foundation of everything we are, and determines how we look and everything.” He screwed up his face in frustration. “I don’t really know, yet. I’m still looking for a book that explains how it all works. It really seems to be the key to everything.”

Erik was sure that it would take ages for Charles to find out more, so he was surprised when one Saturday morning, only two weeks later, Charles appeared at their door carrying an arm full of copied papers. “I’ve been to the library,” he said happily.

“And you’ve decided to make a copy of every single book in there, have you?” Erik asked with raised eyebrows.

Charles laughed. “No, only of a few publications about genetics.”

“A few?”

Laughing, Charles entered and went straight into Erik’s bedroom, where he spread out all the copies on the floor.

“Do you want me to read those?” asked Erik, slightly alarmed, as he closed the door behind himself. It looked extremely dry and complicated and not like fun at all.

“No, don’t worry,” replied Charles cheerfully. “I’ve already done that.”

Erik stared at him. “When? You’re always here.”

“Mostly at night actually.”

Erik shook his head incredulously, and Charles laughed again.

“I know you think that this is dull, but it’s really not. It’s fascinating. And it’s the answer to everything. So, do you want to know what I’ve found out?”

Erik nodded and sat down opposite his friend. There was an all-too familiar glint in Charles’ eyes. He was clearly in what Erik liked to call his ‘teacher mode.’ 

Charles took a deep breath. “Well, I don’t really know how to break this down, but basically all of us have DNA. Doesn’t matter what it stands for,” he added quickly as Erik opened his mouth to ask. “It determines who we are. It stores your genes which hold all kinds of information, like which species you belong to, what exactly you look like, how your whole body is built, everything about you basically. And ours are built out of our parents’ genes, which is why we’re human and why we look like them, right?” Without waiting for a reply, he went on. “But sometimes, just sometimes, something happens while a new DNA is built, so the DNA looks different than it was supposed to look, and the genes are affected. This is called a ‘mutation.’ The human, or animal, or plant, whatever, is different from the others because of that mutation. And now we get back to Darwin.” He took a deep breath, eyes bright with excitement. “Either the mutation proves a disadvantage and the creature will die or not be able to reproduce, or the mutation is an advantage and a new species may develop.” Charles exhaled forcefully, beaming at Erik. “We’re...mutates. And our mutations are an improvement of the human species.”

He’d spoken rushed, words spilling, clearly very excited by what he’d found out. 

Erik needed a moment to let it sink in. “Mutates,” he repeated slowly. “We sound like we belong in a petri dish.”

Charles blinked at him for one, long moment. Then he burst out laughing.

“What?” Erik crossed his arms a little defensively, ears burning.

“Oh, Erik,” Charles sighed happily, when he finally caught his breath and wiped away his tears. Erik waited to be mocked some more, but Charles only looked at him fondly.

“Well?” he snapped. Maybe Charles was reading him, because he felt that psychic warmth, a little bit like how Charles would sometimes coddle him, only half-jokingly.

“You’re adorable. And right,” Charles chuckled at the memory, and Erik thought he could hear the telepathic echoes of Charles murmuring ‘petri dish’ to himself. “Hmm. How about...mutants?”

“Mutants,” Erik repeated, testing the feel of the word in his mouth. “We’re mutants.”

“Better?” Charles grinned.

“Much. So, what you’re saying is, that there’s something in people’s DNA which makes them human, right? There is human DNA.”

Charles nodded. “So to speak, yeah.”

“But we, you and I, we have different DNA, don’t we? Just as you said: We’re mutants. We’re not humans. We’re a new and better species.”

Charles shook his head slightly, frowning a little. “That’s not what I said. We’re still human. We’ve just got an added extra, more like a special talent, I guess...”

Erik was hardly listening. This was amazing. He finally  _ understood. _ Erik had known for a long time that their special abilities lifted them far above everyone else, but it felt good to finally have a name for it, and it was a good explanation for what they could do. He’d never felt any connection with any of the idiots in the schools he’d been to. Not until he’d met Charles. For a long time he’d thought that something was wrong with  _ him, _ which was why he didn’t fit in. But that wasn’t true! There was nothing wrong with him at all. But he really was different and he didn’t fit in because he truly wasn’t like them. He wasn’t human. He was a mutant. The next step in evolution. The others were boring and ordinary, and their time was over. They didn’t want him around, they never had, and he had no use for them either. Charles was the only one who was just like him. It was the two of them against everyone else, against the whole world. The two special boys. The next step in evolution.

_ Erik?  _ Charles’ telepathic voice was tentative. As Erik turned toward his friend again, he saw that Charles looked worried.

“What?” he asked, more than a little bugged by the fact that Charles obviously didn’t understand what this  _ meant. _

“Why do you have to be against everyone?”

Erik couldn’t believe his ears, he was unable to find words strong enough, so he conjured up images from his memory for Charles to see: A group of children pointing at Erik and laughing, shoving him around. A boy snagging Erik’s school bag, emptying its contents onto the floor, before he stepped on them repeatedly, breaking pencils in pieces and smearing peanut butter all over Erik’s workbooks. A group of boys grabbing Erik by the arms, pulling him up, and sticking him head first into a trashcan, yelling “Welcome home, hobo!” Back in that alleyway two and a half years ago, Cain holding Charles down, while he repeatedly punched him in the face.

He glared at Charles. “That,” he spat out. “That’s why. Look what they’ve done to me. And to you. To both of us.”

Charles swallowed.  _ And now you want to be like them? Don’t you think you’re better than that? _

“Yes, that’s right. I am better than them.”

Charles looked at him intently, and Erik was sure he’d start arguing with him any second. Erik was ready for it. If Charles wanted a fight, he could have one. Erik knew that he was right.

But then Charles just sighed and shook his head. “Fancy a game?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight):
> 
> '“We’re...mutates. And our mutations are an improvement of the human species.”
> 
> He’d spoken rushed, words spilling, clearly very excited by what he’d found out. 
> 
> Erik needed a moment to let it sink in. “Mutates,” he repeated slowly. “We sound like we belong in a petri dish.”
> 
> Charles blinked at him for one, long moment. Then he burst out laughing.
> 
> “What?” Erik crossed his arms a little defensively, ears burning.
> 
> “Oh, Erik,” Charles sighed happily, when he finally caught his breath and wiped away his tears. Erik waited to be mocked some more, but Charles only looked at him fondly.
> 
> “Well?” he snapped. Maybe Charles was reading him, because he felt that psychic warmth, a little bit like how Charles would sometimes coddle him, only half-jokingly.
> 
> “You’re adorable. And right,” Charles chuckled at the memory, and Erik thought he could hear the telepathic echoes of Charles murmuring ‘petri dish’ to himself. “Hmm. How about...mutants?”'


	9. 2.4 Junior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one today. Hope you still enjoy! 
> 
> [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) is the best beta in the world.

_ Chapter 2.4 _

**Junior High School**

January - March 1995

 

They didn’t talk about the subject again, both trying to avoid a fight, but Erik couldn’t suppress a feeling of resentment whenever he saw Charles talking to any of their classmates. Erik was certain that they’d never accept him if they found out that he was a mutant. But nevertheless Charles was thirsting for every bit of appreciation and friendliness they threw at him. It was maddening.

But also, even though back when Erik had first met him, Charles had been just as much of an outcast, there now seemed to be a surprising amount of girls greeting him, or giggling when he passed them in the corridor. And this was a different kind of giggling than what Erik was used to. It wasn’t teasing at all. They suddenly seemed to like Charles,  _ fawn _ over him, which, to be honest, wasn’t even that surprising. Erik had always wondered how anyone could  _ not _ like Charles. Charles had always been open and friendly to anyone. But Erik couldn’t get his head around what must have changed for the girls in their class to suddenly realize what a wonderful person Charles was. And he didn’t like it. Charles was  _ Erik’s _ friend.  _ They _ didn’t deserve him. Not after years of either ignoring or taunting him.

At first Charles seemed just as surprised by the sudden amount of interest in him, but after a few weeks Erik got the impression that he’d started to thoroughly enjoy it. Whenever Erik and Charles passed a couple of giggling girls, Charles would give them a wide and radiant smile and sometimes even call “Hi, Caitlin! Hi, Gabby!” or whatever their stupid names were.

He’d mostly blush though. Probably because Erik did nothing to hide his annoyance with Charles’ ridiculous behavior (not that he knew how anyway).

Even though Erik was annoyed by the girls smiling stupidly at his friend in school, he still forgot about it whenever the two of them sat on the floor in Erik’s bedroom and studied, played chess, or worked on controlling their mutations. In these moments it was absolutely impossible to imagine anyone snatching Charles away from him. When Charles yawned and leaned against him to rest his head on Erik’s shoulder, Erik was absolutely certain that nothing could possibly come between them. And definitely not any of those girls.

Since Charles still spent every possible minute at Erik’s apartment, the two of them alone and nobody else in the world existed or mattered, Erik found it just bearable to witness the way the girls in their class followed Charles around, giggling and blushing whenever he looked their way.

But nothing could possibly tear Charles and him apart. They were too close. They were everything to each other.

It couldn’t.

“You know Gabby?”

They were sitting on the window sill in Erik’s bedroom, both watching the snow fall slowly and settle on the already white blanket covering the streets outside. It was the beginning of March, and this might well be the last snow of this winter. 

Erik looked up at the sound of Charles’ voice. “No, I don’t. I don’t know any of their names.”

Charles didn’t look back at him but kept staring out the window. “Well, I think she likes me. She thinks about me all the time.”

“Right.” Erik really didn’t want to talk about anyone in their class. Not here. This was his bedroom. Their space. His and Charles’ retreat. How could Charles let anyone else in here?

“I’m not sure what to do now,” Charles went on, either not picking up on or ignoring Erik’s thoughts. “I guess she’s nice and quite pretty, don’t you think?”

Erik shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about this. He neither knew which of the girls was called Gabby, nor did he find any of them pretty. In fact, the only person he’d ever describe as ‘pretty’ was Charles.

Suddenly, for the first time ever, he sincerely hoped that Charles was too occupied with the subject of Gabby to read his mind.

“She’s been hoping that I talk to her,” said Charles, frowning slightly. “But I don’t really know what to talk  _ about. _ I guess I could read her mind and see what she wants to hear though,” he added thoughtfully.

“Hmm.” Erik didn’t know what to say. He just wanted this conversation to end, for them to return to normal. The idea of talking to anyone in their class apart from Charles was ridiculous and repulsive, and he couldn’t understand why Charles would even consider it. What had happened to  _ ‘I don’t need anyone else?’ _

Finally Charles turned to look at him. His face wore a pained expression. He sighed. “Homework?” he asked.

Erik nodded, very relieved.

Charles didn’t bring up the subject of Gabby again. Erik supposed that he must after all have picked up on Erik’s thoughts, and realized that Erik didn’t like it at all. Nevertheless, something had definitely changed. Erik had really taken it for granted that he and Charles were separate from everyone else, that it was the two of them against the rest of the world, but now the borders seemed to dissolve slowly. It was as though the world, in the shape of their classmates, was now stretching out a hand towards his friend, while it was still shutting Erik out. Not that he wanted its friendship, but it felt a little as though the world was trying to cozy up to his only ally, to steal the only person he had, apart from his mother.

Luckily, nothing much worse happened than Charles exchanging a few polite words with some of their classmates every now and again, and greeting them in the corridor. Outside of school, everything was still exactly the same as it had been.


	10. 2.5 Junior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), my wonderful beta.

_ Chapter 2.5 _

**Junior High School**

May - June 1995

 

Spring came and very slowly the days became longer, brighter, and warmer. Erik and Charles could finally spend more time outside again. It wasn’t as though Erik didn’t enjoy spending time with Charles in his bedroom. In fact there wasn’t much he liked more than sitting close to his best friend, talking about anything and everything or placing chess, but it was also nice to get out from time to time. They chased each other over the flowery meadow and climbed on trees, freer and lighter than they had been in the last few months.

Spring arriving also meant something else: Charles’ birthday was coming up, and Erik was determined to get his friend a present just as special as the chessboard that Charles had given him for his birthday. Thinking of a present and keeping it a secret from a telepath was tricky business, but Erik had done it before and had become quite good at not thinking about it while Charles was around.

Since Charles loved Erik’s mutation and what he could do with it (and since Erik didn’t have any money to buy Charles a present anyway), Erik decided he’d make something for him. He wasn’t sure about what exactly, however. A model of an animal? Or maybe something science-y? Then he thought of the way Charles always sensed Erik before he could see him. Charles could make out Erik’s mind among hundred others from quite a distance. Erik had always envied his friend a little for that ability. He himself had tried identifying Charles by the metal fastenings of his shoes or belt, but there were just too many similar items of clothing around for him to be sure it was definitely Charles. And he’d love to be able to give Charles a little poke or nudge, just like Charles did in Erik’s mind whenever he was approaching. He’d make something that Charles could wear on him wherever he went. Something that Erik could easily recognize from afar and that he could manipulate in a way that was similar to Charles’ mental nudges. Perhaps a bracelet?

Because he couldn’t afford to buy anything metal, Erik once more stole a fork from the school kitchen and hid it in the drawer of his nightstand. It was hard to get anything done without Charles noticing, quite apart from the fact that it was hard to hide anything from Charles in any case, because they spent almost every second of every day together. Whenever Charles left in the evening to go home, it was almost time for Erik to sleep, so the only time he did have was after he’d said goodnight to his mother and pretended to go to bed. In reality he retrieved the fork (or what was left of it) from the drawer of his nightstand and tore off little chunks of metal, out of which he then created tiny rings he linked together to form a short chain.

The trickiest part was crafting the clasps. As Erik had never owned any kind of jewelery himself, he had no idea how they worked or what they looked like. In the end he took the only piece of jewelery his mother owned, a golden necklace with a small locket, which he knew contained a photo of his father and him, out of its box in the bathroom and smuggled it into his room. Even with the help of this model it was hard work, however. He’d never crafted anything as tiny as this and it took him several days to make it work.

The bracelet sat waiting in his nightstand for several days after he’d put the finishing touches on it. Every night after he’d crawled into bed he felt for the little chain in the drawer, memorizing every single little detail about it, and imagining how it would feel wrapped closely around Charles’ wrist. The image always sent a warm flutter to his stomach.

The nearer Charles’ birthday came, however, the more nervous Erik felt. All of a sudden, the fear that Charles might not like it crawled into his mind and refused to go away. Was it normal to give your friend a bracelet for his birthday? Maybe Charles would be offended. And wasn’t making a bracelet for his friend like drawing his parents a picture? What was he? Five years old?

In the morning of Charles’ birthday Erik’s worries had grown so much he’d half a mind of chucking the bracelet away. But there was no time to get another present and he had to get Charles something. With mounting trepidation he wrapped the little chain in an old newspaper (if the present itself was already too mushy, there was no need for cheesy wrapping paper on top of everything), placed it back into the drawer of his nightstand and got ready for school.

Charles was in a really good mood. He’d arrived in the schoolyard first, and as Erik approached he was hit by a wave of giddiness so strong that it washed away his own uneasiness for a moment.

_ Happy birthday, Charles. _

He rounded the corner and came face to face with his best friend who was grinning broadly and holding out something for Erik to see.

“Fifty dollars!” Charles laughed. “Not a bad birthday so far. And my mother said I could stay at yours for the night, so I don’t even have to go back home. No Cain, no Kurt. Perfect!”

If Erik didn’t know Charles and his relationship with his family so well, he probably wouldn’t understand what was so great about having your own mother tell you to stay away from home on your birthday. Well, it was probably an improvement that she’d remembered it at all, unlike the last few years.

Charles was fidgety all day. He could hardly sit still and failed to answer a question more than once because he wasn’t paying attention. During lunch break he bought himself and Erik a mountain of candy, which made them forget completely about the sandwich in Erik’s schoolbag. Charles was happier and more excited than Erik had seen him in a long time. Maybe it was the fact that his mother had finally acknowledged his birthday (or even his existence), or maybe it was just the amount of sugar in the candy. Erik couldn’t help but smile as Charles chatted away happily about the plans for his future while they ate.

“I think I’m going to go to university and study genetics. I want to really understand this. You know, if you look at it from a probabilistic point of view–”

“A what?”

Charles was such a nerd.

“Probabilities, Erik. I mean, how likely is it that two mutants, you and I, that we meet? If there were only the two of us, it would be just extremely unlikely. I think–” He took a deep breath, then grinned excitedly. “I think there must be more of us. Hundreds at least, maybe thousands. I want to find them, Erik. I want to know what they can do. There are just so many possibilities, it’s incredible. Will you come with me?” he added, with a slightly worried look on his face.

Erik raised his eyebrows. “We’re in the seventh grade right now, Charles. I really don’t know what I’m going to do after high school. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to go to college though,” he added with a frown.

It was a dark thought that he’d had before. They’d never spoken about this, but Charles was so clever that Erik had always assumed that Charles would want to go to college. But college was expensive. Erik didn’t see how his mother could possibly afford it. And his marks weren’t nearly good enough for a scholarship. But he shouldn’t worry about it now. They still had five years at school together. And anyway, they’d find a way to make it work. Nothing could possibly separate them.

 

Erik’s mother was at work, so the apartment was empty when they arrived there. She hadn’t forgotten about Charles’ birthday, however. A birthday card as well as a small cake with 13 candles was waiting for him on the dinner table. Charles read the card first, smiling happily as he did so, then stowed it carefully away in his school bag. They carried the cake into Erik’s bedroom, and Charles sat down on the floor to cut it.

Erik stood nervously in front of his nightstand. Then, having decided to just get it over with, snatched the badly wrapped present out of the drawer and tossed it at his friend. “I made...well...that’s for you.” He blushed.

Surprised, but obviously pleased, Charles picked it up and unwrapped it, while Erik’s ears burned hotter than the setting sun.

“Erik...did you make this?” Charles was holding up the bracelet and staring at it as though he’d never seen anything like it. Then he glanced at Erik.

“Yeah, I...yeah.” Erik’s voice was so hoarse he was surprised he could make a sound at all.

Charles’ face broke into a wide smile. “It’s incredible! You’re incredible! How did you make this? It’s perfect! I didn’t know you could control your mutation like that. This is awesome!”

Erik wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his face burnt even hotter than before. “I...I thought you could wear it, you know, so I can sense it like you sense my mind and...yeah.”

Charles grinned. “You mean, like a tracking device.”

Erik’s face couldn’t possibly burn any hotter, it would definitely burst into flames soon. “No! I didn’t...I mean...”

Charles shook his head, still grinning. “I’m joking, Erik. This is honestly the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten from anyone. I’ll put it on right now, see?”

He fiddled with it, one-handed, until it sat secured around his left wrist. “Can you feel it?” he asked, looking up at Erik.

Erik closed his eyes for a moment and felt around for the familiar shape and material of the bracelet. He felt it at once and so he nodded, finally starting to relax and smile too. It felt different from the times he’d sensed it in the drawer of his nightstand. It had already taken heat from Charles’ skin, and Erik could feel exactly where it touched his friend’s arm, could feel the tiny, soft hairs brushing against it, could feel the smooth, freckly skin. He gave it a little nudge and the bracelet contracted briefly and gently around Charles’ wrist. 

Charles gave a soft laugh. “Amazing,” he said again.

This night, Erik laid awake for hours, unable to sleep. Charles hadn’t taken the bracelet off before he’d climbed into bed next to him, and so Erik felt it buzzing softly where his and Charles’ arms touched.

Erik hadn’t felt this excited and elated in a long time. Charles was wearing his bracelet, the one that Erik had made for him. He loved it. He’d said that it was the best birthday present anyone had ever given him. From now on, Charles would always be carrying a part of Erik around with him. They’d never really be separated again.


	11. 2.6 Junior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kisses for my beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight)!

_Chapter 2.6_

**Junior High School**

21 June 1995

 

The last weeks before the summer holidays were always the least bearable. It was way too hot to sit in class and pay attention to Mrs. Cole’s dull teaching. There were hardly any rainy days and so everyone was yearning to get outside, eat ice-cream or jump into the lake – anything to get some relief from the heat.

When the bell finally rang on the last day of term, the anticipation in the school building was perceptible even for someone without any telepathic abilities. For Charles, it had to be overwhelming, however. Whenever there was a general feeling of excitement, Charles was easily swept away by it. The amount of excitement around him added up inside his telepathic mind and became something like a fireball of euphoria, extremely hard to control or contain. At least that was how Charles had described it.

Today that was definitely the case. As they left for Erik’s apartment, Charles hopped up and down the street, jabbering ceaselessly about anything that came to his mind. He was so hyper that Erik decided he could do with some cooling-off. He used his mutation to tug at the bracelet around Charles’ wrist, which brought his friend’s attention back to him. “The lake’s just over there. Fancy a swim?”

Charles’ face lit up. “First to arrive wins!” he shouted and dashed off.

Though Charles was extremely hyped up, Erik still had the longer legs and was therefore a little faster. He arrived first, throwing his school bag aside and stopping right at the edge of the lake. Just as he turned around to see how far Charles was behind him, his friend bumped right into him and sent them both toppling head first into the water.

Moments later they both reemerged, coughing, and Charles began to laugh.

“You idiot!” Erik gave him a little push, but he couldn’t help grinning too.

“I’m still wearing my backpack.” Charles’ words were hardly coherent through his coughing and continued laughter.

Erik shook his head, now laughing loudly too.

As all their clothes were soaked through and Charles needed to dry his books, they soon made their way back to Erik’s apartment. They went straight into the bathroom and began peeling out off their wet clothes. The bathroom was tiny. There was hardly enough room for both of them.

“Give them to me, I’ll wring them out,” said Charles who was nearer to the sink.

Erik obliged, handing Charles his T-shirt and then his shorts. He was already in his briefs when he remembered they had nothing to change into.

“Hang on, I’ll get us dry clothes,” he called over his shoulder, before he hurried into his bedroom.

He quickly picked out two T-shirts, as well as two pairs of sweatpants and underwear. He was just about to head back, when he paused, then made up his mind, pulled off the wet pair of underwear where he stood, and put on his fresh clothes.

When Erik reentered the bathroom, Charles was just putting aside the wrung out clothes, still in his soaking wet underwear. He grinned at Erik when he handed him his stack of fresh clothes, then quickly shed his wet boxers to pull on dry ones instead.

Erik caught a short glimpse of Charles’ pale backside, and turned away quickly, blushing a little. As he deemed it safe to look again, Charles was just pulling up the sweatpants Erik had chosen for him. They were more than a little too long, and Charles bent down to tuck up the legs, so he wouldn’t trip over them. There were still drops of water glistening in the nape of Charles’ neck, and Erik had a sudden desire to brush them off with his thumb.

“Right,” said Charles, straightening up again, and looking cheerfully at Erik. “I hope my books aren’t completely ruined.” He laughed, as he pulled the dry T-shirt over his head and walked past Erik towards the living room.

The books were fine, just soaked through all the way, so Erik helped Charles set them up to dry in the sun on the kitchen window sill. Then he dug some ice-cream out of the freezer and they sat down on the stairs in front of the house, eating it, while Charles entertained Erik with random stories out of his neighbors’ minds.

All in all, it was probably the perfect day. The weather was fantastic, they had ice-cream, they’d been swimming in the lake (sort of), they had no obligations whatsoever for the next weeks, and Charles was allowed to stay the night.

After dinner Erik and Charles sat down for a game of chess, which Erik lost spectacularly, then brushed their teeth, said goodnight to Erik’s mother, and climbed into bed. They were so tired, they had hardly laid down when they drifted off.

 

It was in the middle of the night that Erik woke with a start. He felt hot and sweaty, and he was breathing fast, almost as though he’d had a nightmare. But he didn’t feel panicky at all. No, he was horribly flustered. Backtracking he remembered he’d been dreaming of Charles, of the way he’d looked in the bathroom, that drop of water on the nape of his neck, of the flash of pale butt he’d spotted. He’d been dreaming about how it would feel if he touched it.

Erik blushed. Those weren’t thoughts you were supposed to have about your best friend. He automatically shifted a little to the side, away from Charles, and noticed that his pajama trousers were slightly wet in the area of his crotch. This couldn’t be. He couldn’t possibly have wet his bed. He hadn’t done that for so many years.

Blushing even more violently, he stuck his hand down his pants and felt the wetness. It wasn’t, as he’d expected, like water, but slimy, more like...glue? What must have happened hit him suddenly like a bolt of lightning. He and Charles had read about it. They’d laughed about it. _But now it was actually happening to him_ . And what was worst of all, it had happened while he’d been thinking about _his best friend_.

Charles moved around next to him, then lifted his head and looked at him, disoriented. _Erik…?_

Erik could feel Charles’ tired telepathic mind seeping into his own, trying to find out what was going on. He panicked. _"Stop that!”_

“What?” Charles sat up, looking utterly confused.

“Get out of my head! Stop prying!”

“I’m not—”

“You think it’s okay to nose around in someone’s mind like that? Well, it’s not! Ever heard of privacy? _Stay out of my head!"_

Immediately, Erik regretted his words, but the damage was done. He could feel Charles retreat from his mind. There was no trace of Charles’ telepathy left in Erik’s head now, and Charles looked close to tears. Then he turned around and laid down with his back to Erik, pulling the blanket up to his face. Erik could hear him sniffling, even though he was trying very hard to hide it.

Very carefully, Erik crept out of bed and went into the bathroom, where he sat down on the toilet, pulling off the spoiled pants. He’d never felt so miserable, so guilty, and so ashamed of himself. He was disgusted by what had just happened, disgusted by the white, slimy substance in his pants, and by the thoughts that had caused it. What was wrong with him? What was more, he’d said horrible things to his best friend, and he couldn’t even apologize or take them back because he could never let Charles into his mind again. If Charles found out what had just happened... Erik shook his head in desperation. No. Charles could never know.

A strangled sob escaped his mouth and he hid his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths trying to calm himself. He had to get rid of the slimy stuff. He couldn’t let his mother see this.

He got up on shaky legs and began washing his pants in the sink, before he hung them on the clothesline over the bathtub. He just hoped his mother wouldn’t notice them among all the other clothes. He used toilet paper and some water to clean himself, then fished an old pair of pajama pants out of the laundry basket and pulled them on.

Charles didn’t move when Erik slid back into bed next to him. He was still in the same position he’d been in when Erik had left, facing away from him. He wasn’t asleep though. His back was stiff and tense, and he wasn’t breathing deeply.

Erik lay awake for a long time, unable to fall asleep. The shame and horror wouldn’t go away, and he was scared to touch Charles by accident. So neither of them moved, until they both finally drifted off into a fitful, troubled sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear friends, this was Part Two. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Since my beta and I are still not done with Part Three and are both very busy at the moment (not to mention that I'll be gone all weekend), it might take a little while until I'm ready to start uploading it. Please be patient though. It will come. See you soon!


	12. 3.1 Senior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends, I'm back, and I brought PART THREE with me!
> 
> It's almost four and a half years later and the boys are all but grown up.
> 
> A big THANK YOU to my wonderful friend and beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), for all her hard work even though she's got way too much on her plate right now without this. She really is incredible!

**_PART THREE_ **

 

_ Chapter 3.1 _

**Senior High School**

22 October 1999

 

He should have stayed home. What had he been thinking?

Erik’s gaze swept over scrunched chips and crumpled paper cups on the floor until he spotted something that looked horrifically like puke on the carpet.

Wrinkling his nose, he moved over to the side of the couch that was situated furthest away from the small puddle.

_ Christ. _

The music was way too loud, the people were too drunk and annoying, and Charles had clearly forgotten about him.

Erik gazed towards the armchair in the opposite side of the room. Charles was still sitting there, but the girl had moved from being squeezed next to him to straddling his  thighs, hunkering over Erik’s best friend like a lion over its prey. It really did look like  she was eating his face.

Erik turned away again quickly, disgusted. He’d half a mind of just leaving without another glance. Charles certainly wouldn’t miss him. He looked busy enough.

It stung.

How many more times was he going to keep agreeing to accompany Charles to every stupid house party? Erik loathed parties. Charles almost always deserted him as soon as they went through the door, leaving Erik alone in the middle of a bunch of absolute morons and shallow idiots who wouldn’t even glance at Erik with half their backside if it weren’t for Charles.

Erik really should have known.

But this was their chess night. And they’d agreed to spend the evening at Erik’s apartment, playing late into the night, munching chips and drinking coke. Only yesterday Charles had said he was looking forward to it. Erik had been excited about finally spending a whole evening with his best friend again, and only with him. And then Charles had canceled at the very last minute.

Apparently this party, at the house of one of Charles’ soccer mates, was too good to miss. Great house, great music, great people.

Erik snorted.

Yeah, right. It definitely was a good party if you liked cheap booze, incoherent techno music, puke, and jizz on the toilet seat.

Erik didn’t even know what the party guy was called. Everyone on Charles’ soccer team was an idiot, apart from Charles. Erik had learned this the hard way, when Charles had persuaded him to join them for their after-match celebrations one day. He’d never felt as out of place as he’d done that evening in the middle of a bunch of loud, yelling asshats who could talk about nothing else but which girl in their year had the biggest tits. And now there were even more of them around.

He should just leave. He really should.

“Fucking nightmare of a party, right?” A dark-haired girl flopped down on the couch next to him with a sigh. She raised an eyebrow at him, wry and sympathetic all at once.

Erik was pretty sure he’d never seen her before. She definitely wasn’t a fellow senior at their school. He didn’t like it when people spoke to him as though they knew him, so he didn’t respond. This didn’t stop her however. 

“Is that your friend?” She pointed across the room at Charles, whose hands had now both disappeared under the girl’s shirt. Erik wished he hadn’t looked.

He nodded reluctantly. He didn’t at all feel like talking to anyone, especially not about Charles.

“We’re in the same boat then.” She laughed as she spotted the confused look on his face. “That’s my friend Bonnie,” she added in explanation, nodding in the direction of Charles and the girl.

“And did she force you to come here as well?” Erik heard himself ask in spite of himself.

The girl grimaced. “Yup,” she said. “I hate these kinds of parties. Everyone is too drunk to form a coherent sentence, so no conversation is possible, the music sucks, everything smells of beer, barf, or piss, and yet people roll around in it like a bunch of animals in heat, not caring whether they’ve got puke or jizz on their hands or faces.”

Erik couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I’m Magda,” she said with a small smile, stretching out her hand.

“Erik.” He took it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Erik,” she grinned. “You’re like a beacon of light in the absolute darkness here.”

Erik snorted. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me a beacon of light before.”

“Well, that’s because they’re all really dim, if you’ll excuse my terrible joke.”

They both laughed.

“That really was terrible.” Erik shook his head, still chuckling. She jabbed him in the ribs playfully. That was something only Charles had done to him before.

“Wanna go outside for a bit?” she asked, throwing Charles and Bonnie a look. “I don’t think they’ll need us anytime soon and I really want to get the smell of vomit out of my nose.”

It was cold outside, days inching closer to November, but it nevertheless felt good to get some fresh air.

The garden was huge. Erik and Magda walked for about 15 minutes without reaching the same place twice. Charles’ soccer mate must be incredibly rich. While they walked they talked, and it surprisingly didn’t get annoying or boring at all. It was strange, but Erik found that he didn’t mind her company. A part of him thought he maybe enjoyed it a little. She was smart, funny, sarcastic, and not at all like all the other humans he’d met so far. She might be the second human ever that he didn’t hate, after his mother.

Apparently, Magda was a year younger than him and had just turned 17. She was a junior, which explained why they’d never come across each other before. He found out that she was Jewish too when she started talking about last year’s Hanukkah celebrations, and Erik caught himself thinking that his mother would be absolutely delighted if he brought her home for dinner.

After a while Magda began to feel cold and so they headed back toward the house, even though Erik would have much preferred being a little cold to spending more time at this nightmare of a party. When they entered, he was surprised to find that it was almost 2am. They’d been outside, talking, for more than an hour. It hadn’t felt that long at all.

“There you are!”

“Yeah,” Erik said, spotting Charles who looked as though he was a little annoyed by something. “Hey. Been looking for me?”

“Yes, I have. For fifteen minutes.” Charles raised his eyebrows. “Have you been outside?”

“Yeah. Magda and I both needed some fresh air, so...what?” he asked, when Charles’ annoyed look changed to one of astonishment.

“Oh...nothing...I guess.” Charles threw Magda a curious glance. “Shall we call it a night then?” he added, looking back at Erik, suddenly unsure.

“Okay.” Erik shrugged. “I’ll see you around,” he added, nodding to Magda.

“Yeah, see you.” He thought she looked a little disappointed, but she smiled nonetheless.

“Goodnight,” Charles said to her, before he grabbed his coat and followed Erik out of the door.

They hadn’t been walking long, when Charles turned to look at him again. “So...Magda?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

“What about her?”

“Well...since when do you speak to girls?”

Erik shrugged. “She’s nice,” he said simply.

Charles nodded slowly, a curious expression on his face.

For a while they just walked silently next to one another, their hands buried in the pockets of their coats. The streets were completely empty. Erik could feel the wires within the street lights buzzing. If he wanted he could just break them all with only a little flick of his finger, and the whole street would be plunged into complete darkness. Sometimes he wondered why he never did things like that. It wasn’t as though anybody would ever know that it was him.

“Did you kiss her?” Charles’ question sounded unnaturally loud in the absolute silence.

“No.” Erik shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Why?”

Charles shrugged. “Don’t know. Did you want to?”

Erik considered this for a moment. “Don’t know. Haven’t really thought about it to be honest.”

Charles stopped walking and stared at him. “You haven’t even thought about it?”

“I...don’t know...I mean, I hardly know her, do I?  _ I just met her." _ Erik felt the heat creep up his neck, and was glad that it was too dark for Charles to notice.

Charles looked at him with an expression that Erik had seen several times before. His eyes were narrowed, his nose scrunched, and he looked extremely concentrated, as though he was thinking very hard about something. After a moment, the expression disappeared, however, and Charles shrugged. “So what did you do then?”

“Just talk, and walk around a bit. She’s quite funny actually,” he added as an afterthought.

“Right.”

They walked on, falling silent once more. Erik’s hands were getting cold and he buried them deeper in his coat’s pockets.

After a few more minutes they reached the old, tatty house in which was the apartment where Erik and his mother lived. Erik floated the keys out of his pocket to unlock the front door.

“Are you going to see her again?”

Erik turned around to look at Charles, confused. “What? Who?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Magda. Obviously.”

“Well, she goes to our school, so I probably will at some point.”

“Oh come on.” Charles looked definitely annoyed now. “You know what I mean.”

Erik sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. Okay? And now be quiet or you’ll wake up my mom.”

They slipped inside the apartment and tiptoed through the living room, where Erik’s mother was asleep on the couch, and into the bathroom. They quickly brushed their teeth and changed, then sneaked into Erik’s bedroom.

Erik crept into his bed and Charles into the sleeping bag always waiting for him on the carpet. For a moment, Erik heard a lot of rustling, then it went completely quiet.

“Good night,” he said quietly into the darkness.

“Good night,” yawned Charles back from the floor.

Almost out of habit, Erik stretched out his senses to feel for the metal bracelet on Charles’ wrist, laying warm and buzzing softly on Charles’ skin.


	13. 3.2 Senior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), the best beta ever.

_ Chapter 3.2 _

**Senior High School**

November 1999

 

As October faded into November, the days got colder and drier. The time they spent waiting for the school bus in the mornings became more and more uncomfortable. They kept trying to keep themselves warm by jumping up and down and rubbing their hands, but they still arrived at school with their noses red and their hands and toes freezing every day.

Charles and Bonnie had started going out after the party. It wasn’t exactly a new situation for Erik since Charles never went long without a new girlfriend, but this time it was a little different.

Usually, when Charles had a girlfriend, Erik would spend the breaks in school alone, while Charles and whatever girl he was with at the time would sit somewhere close by, giggling, holding hands, or making out. It wasn’t fun.

But now there was Magda.

It wasn’t the same as being with Charles. Erik didn’t feel nearly as connected to her as to his best friend, but she was good company nevertheless. It was very easy to talk to her, and she was funny. When she was there, he could almost ignore the way Charles’ hand slipped under Bonnie’s shirt, the way he pulled her toward him, and the way his soft, red lips found hers. Magda distracted him so well that it wasn’t nearly as hard as usual to ignore the thoughts in his head about what it would feel like if Charles kissed him like that. That was definitely an improvement. Erik thought he should feel guilty about using her like that, but...

At night, when Erik was alone in bed, there was nobody to distract him from those thoughts.

It was a Wednesday and they’d had P.E. earlier. They’d played soccer— _football, Erik,_ Charles always said—which meant that Erik had been tortured with the sight of Charles’ thighs in those criminal shorts he always wore. Erik had had to force himself to look anywhere but at Charles, tried desperately to not get hard in front of the whole class. He’d stayed at the very corner of the communal shower with his back to the other boys after. It had worked. He hadn’t made a fool out of himself.

Now, however, was a different matter.

Now Erik was alone, while Charles was at home, his actual home, and therefore about a mile away. The light in the living room was out, which meant that his mother had gone to bed as well. He was truly alone, and he couldn’t think about anything else other than the glimpse of pale backside he’d gotten in the shower or the flexing of muscles in shorts. Even though he'd tried not to look today, he knew exactly what they looked like. He’d already spent so many nights thinking about them.

And now he was at it again, because there was absolutely no point trying to distract himself. He’d tried that before. It didn’t work. His thoughts always, somehow, slid back to sweaty pale and freckly skin, to soft red lips, and blue eyes. And, if he allowed it when nobody else was around, his imagination went further on to images of his own hand on that skin, in soft, dark hair, his own lips kissing those red lips, to Charles crying out, gasping...

Erik let his hand slip inside his pajama pants. His cock was already rock hard and throbbing painfully. He couldn’t stand it anymore. The image of Charles’ flushed face was overwhelming. Charles, his mouth slack and open, breathlessly moaning Erik’s name, while Erik placed hungry kisses on his neck...his one hand grasping at Charles’ ass, his other around Charles’ cock. Charles’ hand on Erik’s cock, both gasping into each other’s mouths, going faster and harder, their arousal mounting, climbing—

Erik gave his own cock a few last violent pulls and bit off a moan as he creamed himself.

Still breathing heavily, he sank back into his pillow.

The image slowly faded and his bedroom, only illuminated by the street-lamp outside his window, came back into focus.

There was his homework, which he’d finished before dinner, lying on the floor, and a couple of stolen spoons he’d crumpled into a metal ball out of boredom earlier.

And then there was  _ Charles’ _ sleeping bag, which had been shoved into a corner, the one he’d started using when they’d both gotten too big to stay on one bed. Charles, who hadn’t read Erik’s mind in over four years, and had therefore no idea of the kind of thoughts Erik had about him. Charles, who’d probably be disgusted and disturbed by the images Erik kept playing and replaying over and over in his mind.

Erik turned toward his nightstand and pulled out a tissue to clean his dirty hand. He couldn’t get everything off, his hand was still sticky, but he didn’t dare go to the bathroom in case his mother hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

So he lay there, feeling filthy and worthless, with his sticky hand and pajama pants. He’d have to wash those in secret again and sneak them, without his mother noticing, onto the clothesline with the rest of the laundry.

Erik groaned quietly. Why did he have to be like this? Why? Why couldn’t he just think about Charles in a way friends usually did? Why did he have to have those thoughts that ruined everything? If they weren’t there, Charles would probably still be reading his mind. They’d still be close, and Erik wouldn’t want to die in shame every time he remembered what he’d thought about the night before. He wouldn’t have to hide. He wouldn’t be alone.

Erik turned quickly over unto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow, smothering a dry sob that wracked his chest. He hated this. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted his best friend back, his ally, his other half. But how could that be if Erik constantly had to suppress his filthy thoughts, if there was so much he had to hide from Charles?

Another dry sob escaped his throat, silenced by his pillow, and Erik clenched his fists, pressing them to his ears. He could now hear his own sobs echoed in his head, a muffled chamber of despair. What could he do? How could he end this?

He fell asleep a while later, his hands still over his ears, his face buried in his pillow.


	14. 3.3 Senior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank my beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), enough for her hard work!

_ Chapter 3.3 _

**Senior High School**

November - December 1999

 

The last few weeks before the holidays were always the most stressful. Every single teacher of theirs seemed to think that it was absolutely essential that they had another test before Christmas.

This meant that Charles and Erik spent more time together than they had in a long time, though they were mostly studying. Charles needed to do well this year, as he was hoping to get into a good university this summer, and Erik was more than happy to keep him company.

Thus returned their afternoons on the floor of Erik’s bedroom, books and exercise sheets spread out around them.

It was an unwelcome surprise, when, one afternoon after they’d spent about an hour brooding over their Math exercises, Charles started talking about things Erik really didn’t want to hear about.

“I was at Bonnie’s house last night.” Erik could hear the sounds of him leaning back against his bed.

“Right.” Erik didn’t look up from his book, copying down the next exercise.

“She introduced me to her parents. They’re quite nice.”

“Hmm.” Erik finished. He’d need all his concentration to solve the exercise now, but Charles just kept talking.

“They didn’t even really care that she took me up to her room with her. I mean...they didn’t even worry about what their 17-year-old daughter got up to with some guy they only just met.”

Erik’s attention had shifted from the exercise in front of him to what Charles was talking about, even though he still pretended to be working. Erik was not a masochist, not really. He didn’t want to hear any more of what Charles and Bonnie had done in her room, but he couldn’t help but listen.

“She didn’t even lock her door,” Charles went on. “She knew they wouldn’t come in. Incredible how trusting they were. I kinda felt bad.”

Erik began drawing circles on the corner of his exercise sheet. As Charles didn’t continue, he looked up at him, in spite of himself. “What did you do?”

Charles shrugged, blushing slightly. “Well, actually, I thought we were just going to...you know...make out a bit, what with her parents in the house and everything. But then she actually pulled a condom out of her nightstand, and...well.” He laughed a little embarrassedly. “You can imagine what happened then.”

Erik’s stomach churned, and he swallowed. He wished he hadn’t asked.

Charles fell silent, and Erik, trying hard to rid his mind of the unpleasant images that were dominating every corner of his mind, forced himself to concentrate instead on the exercise in front of him. For a few minutes, he worked quietly. 

Then Charles spoke again. “Erik?”

He looked up once more. Charles hadn’t moved. He was still sitting there, leaning against Erik’s bed, and frowning slightly. “Can I ask you something? I mean...you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, obviously.”

Erik sat up straighter. “What is it?”

Charles scratched his neck and gave a nervous little laugh. “I know this might be a little too personal and all, but...” he took a deep breath. “Do you ever think about...sex?”

Erik immediately felt the heat creep up on his face. He quickly looked down again, pretending to be interested in the unfinished exercise, so he didn’t have to look at Charles. “Sometimes,” he said evasively.

He heard Charles shift slightly near the bed. “Can I ask you...when you do...what do you think about?”

Erik’s face was burning now. He tried very hard to not think of the images that had haunted him for the last four years. Charles, naked, gasping, Erik over him, kissing him, touching him—

Erik cleared his throat. “Just...stuff...I don’t know...why?” He shot a fleeting glance at his friend, before he looked down at the exercise again.

There was a slight blush visible on Charles’ cheeks once more. “Well, I was just wondering...you know...because all the other guys talk about it constantly, and...” He laughed nervously again. “Well, I certainly think about it a lot, but you...I’ve never noticed you showing any interest in...anyone. Why is that, if you actually are thinking about it?”

From the corner of his eye, Erik saw that Charles was watching him intently. As he stole another glance at his friend’s face, he saw that Charles was again wearing that strange look of concentration, his eyes narrowed, his nose scrunched.

Erik ducked his head. He wished Charles would just stop asking him. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

He swallowed, and then shrugged, trying to pull himself together. “There’s nobody I really think about like that,” he lied. “So why should I show any interest in anyone?”

There was a rustling sound where Charles sat, and Erik had the impression that he slumped somewhat.

Erik sat up straight again, and forced himself to look properly at Charles. He didn’t understand why Charles looked disappointed, but it annoyed him for some reason. “Look, everyone at our school is either an idiot or an asshole. And that holds true for both the guys and the girls. Why would I bother with any of them?”

The blush on Charles’ cheeks was very pronounced now. “That’s not even what I meant,” he spluttered. “I...” He swallowed. “Is there really nobody you think about like that?”

There was a lump in Erik’s throat, so big that he felt hardly able to talk. He shrugged again, trying to pretend like this meant nothing to him. “Not really.”

Why did Charles have to look at him like that, as if he was sizing him up? It made Erik’s skin prickle and his heart beat nervously. It was unnerving. He was sure that in a moment Charles would see right through him, and know what was going on. Either that, or he was going to read his mind, and then he’d see every inappropriate thought that Erik ever had about him. And he would see what Erik did almost every night, and what he imagined while he did it.

Erik’s hands felt sweaty. He could feel them shaking slightly. “Why do you need to know?” Erik’s voice too, was shaking slightly. “I’m not the one being weird here. That’s you. Why would I care about them? They’re all idiots, stupid humans. We’re so much better than them. Why would you even bother with any of them?”

He didn’t remember getting to his feet. His fists were clenched by his sides, shaking worse than ever. He could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. Charles was staring up at him, eyes wide open...afraid. And that hurt the most.

“It was never supposed to be like this.” Erik’s voice was shaking even more now. “It wasn’t supposed to be...they weren’t...I thought it would be you and me against the rest of the world. Just the two of us, together, and that nothing would ever tear us apart, and now you’ve–”

He broke off. It was like the ground had disappeared from beneath his feet. He shouldn’t have said anything. Not to Charles, never to Charles. He sounded like a kid, jealous of somebody else’s candy. His ears were burning. He felt weak and humiliated.

“Erik...” said Charles softly, but Erik had already turned around, torn the bedroom door open, and left. Past the living room, past his mother, and into the bathroom. He bolted the door shut, sat down on the toilet seat, and buried his face in his hands.

He sat there for a while, unmoving, even when his mother knocked worriedly on the door and called his name. It was a small eternity before he heard her walk away, exchanging a few unintelligible words with Charles. Shortly after, the front door clicked shut.

A sob ripped out of Erik’s throat, unbidden. 

Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?

 

When Erik arrived at school the next day, he went straight to the corner near the lunchroom where he, Charles, Bonnie, and Magda usually spent their breaks. They were all there, chatting and laughing. As Erik came closer, Charles turned to  him, stepping away from the two girls. He could see that Charles wanted to say something to him, but Erik walked quickly past him and towards Magda.

“Hey,” he said a little breathlessly.

“Hey,” she replied, smiling at him.

“Would you...” He swallowed. “Would you like to go out sometime?”


	15. 3.4 Senior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) is an amazing beta.

_ Chapter 3.4 _

**Senior High School**

December 1999

 

Everything was very different with Magda as his girlfriend. Other people in school seemed to notice him more. And even though he wasn’t at all keen to make contact with anybody, he did his best not to be too rude, and played along for Magda’s sake.

Magda could hardly stop smiling these days, always at Erik, which he tried to return best he could. It was a little overwhelming, but to his relief, nothing had changed; she was still just the cool, funny and sarcastic girl he’d liked when they’d just been friends.

It really wasn’t so bad being Magda’s boyfriend. They went out a few times after school to a small café down the road, where they just  _ talked. _ This was something they might have done anyway, and since Magda was so easy to talk to, Erik could actually say that he enjoyed their dates. She liked to take his hand, which he was fine with, even though he himself felt no particular desire to take hers. Thankfully, Magda was in no rush to take their relationship down the Charles-and-Bonnie route either. She seemed content with just holding his hand, and snuggling against him during breaks.

They first kissed after a week during lunch, in a corner near the science classrooms. They were just talking, when Magda leaned over and pressed her lips to his. She smelled nice and her lips were soft, but he’d somehow always imagined kissing to be more exciting. However, he tried his best to copy the way her lips moved, and when they broke apart, she smiled widely at him, which probably meant that he’d done all right.

Right after the last day of Hanukkah, Erik, who hated lying to his mother, dropped the bombshell and finally told her about Magda. She was absolutely thrilled. She insisted on having her over for dinner the next Saturday, and when the day came, she outdid herself preparing the most amazing dinner they’d had in a long time.

She and Magda got along right away. Magda couldn’t stop laughing when Edie, to Erik’s embarrassment, began telling her stories about his childhood.

He was glad to see his mother this happy. She hadn’t had too much to laugh about since his father’s death, and Erik hadn’t exactly made life easier for her. He could tell that she was over the moon about him having found such a sweet and lovely Jewish girl, after years of worrying about him. This was more obvious when she took him aside after dinner and kissed him on both cheeks, her eyes full of happy tears.

Erik didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but if he’d thought that by being with Magda he’d erase his fantasies about Charles, he’d been quite wrong. He just didn’t understand it. Magda was pretty, funny, and likable, and above anything else she was willing to kiss him, and had even guided his hand under her shirt a few times to let him feel her breasts. And yet none of it would drown out the images about Charles.

If Charles was to be believed, masturbating to fantasies about one’s girlfriend was normal, and totally appropriate, but Erik was pretty sure (well, he obviously couldn’t ask Charles’ opinion on this matter) that masturbating to images of one’s best friend was not. Yet those were the only thoughts he had whenever he started touching himself.

Erik was starting to think that there must be something seriously wrong with his brain. He sometimes even came close to wondering whether more than three years of sharing his mind with Charles had left some kind of imprint on it, something that Erik just couldn’t erase. He had no idea how something like this would work, but then again, Charles was the only telepath Erik had ever heard about. And, as far as he knew, there was no research on the effects of telepathy.

In some strange twist, Erik going out with Magda meant that he was now seeing a lot more of Charles than before. Magda and Bonnie seemed very keen to go out on double dates, the four of them going to cafés or the movies together, which somehow always ended with Erik having to endure the sight of Charles and Bonnie making out in front of him.

Having a girlfriend was much more expensive than Erik would have thought. Magda never asked him to pay whenever they went somewhere, but nevertheless, Erik had never before gone out so often in such a short space of time. He could only afford it because his mother had finally found a new job as a secretary the previous year, which paid a lot better than her old cleaning job. Nevertheless, he felt bad about taking the money she slipped him, whenever he told her about their plans. He knew that she’d always put him first and gone without a lot of things to ensure he always had what he needed. Now was the first time in years they had enough money for her to treat herself for once, and again he was taking all of it. He knew she wanted him to be happy, and she loved the fact that he had a girlfriend now, but it still didn’t feel right.

As the holidays began, Bonnie spent much less time with them because she and her family were so busy with Christmas preparations. Neither Erik’s nor Magda’s family celebrated Christmas, and Charles wouldn’t join his family if you paid him, so it was mostly the three of them at Erik’s apartment, drinking tea or hot chocolate, and playing board games. Magda had never played chess before, and Charles, who loved teaching others, took her aside to show her how it was done. Erik watched them play, and was pleased to see that Magda got the hang of it quickly. In the following days they spent a lot of time playing as a team against Charles, who nevertheless won most matches.

Excitement and nervousness rose all around them after Christmas, as the new year approached. It wasn’t just a new year. It was a new millennium, and people were either very excited by what was coming, or downright scared.

Personally, Erik didn’t think anything was going to happen. Times changed only slowly, and people never changed. The first day of the year 2000 was going to be just like the last day of 1999. Nevertheless, Charles, Bonnie, and Magda all insisted on celebrating the arrival of the new millennium together, and Erik, who didn’t know what else he was supposed to do, and couldn’t imagine spending New Year’s Eve without his best friend, grudgingly agreed to accompany them.

They met late in the evening, all wrapped up warmly in thick cloaks, Charles carrying a backpack filled with beer cans.

Erik didn’t like drinking. He’d seen what it did to people too often in his neighborhood and his classmates at parties. One beer should be fine though, he told himself. He didn’t have to get drunk. Anyway, he could already see Bonnie’s disdain if he reclined, so he took one.

They headed for the town center. There usually wasn’t much going on there, but on New Year’s Eve everyone seemed to be out and about, even though it was freezing.

As midnight finally arrived, Erik’s toes seemed to be made of ice, but he tried hard to ignore the stinging pain spreading through his feet and celebrate with the others. Charles was already so drunk that he couldn’t walk in a straight line anymore, but Bonnie seemed to enjoy half-carrying him through the snow. She couldn’t stop giggling, while he rambled on, slurring his words.

Erik just wanted to go home, but it didn’t feel right to leave Charles like this. And it didn’t feel right to leave him in Bonnie’s care at any rate – but for different reasons.

“Charles, I think you’re drunk.”

Charles snorted, blinking as he tried to get Erik into focus. “I think you’re right.”

“Don’t you also think it’s time to go home and get some sleep?” asked Erik tentatively.

“Go home?” shrieked Bonnie. “What are you? Six years old?”

Charles giggled. Erik would have liked to slap him. Instead he took his arm and looked at him insistently. “I’m serious. I think you’ve had enough.”

Bonnie slapped his hand away angrily. “You’re not his mom, Erik. Leave him alone. He wants to stay and go to a party. Don’t you, Charles?”

Charles screwed up his face in concentration, evidently trying to work out what he wanted to do. Then he nodded. “Yeah, a party,” he said slowly, as though he’d just heard the word for the first time.

Erik’s ears were growing hot. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re kids. Nobody will let us in.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Bonnie derisively. “I know that bouncer.” She nodded in the direction of a blazing neon sign over the door of what was evidently some kind of club. “He’ll let me in. And my boyfriend. You might have to bribe him though, I suppose.” She laughed unpleasantly.

Erik’s heart sunk. He didn’t have any money. Not that he wanted to go to some stupid party anyway. He just wanted Charles to come with him. He turned to look at Charles again. “Come on. This is stupid. Let’s go home.”

Bonnie looked at him in a mockingly sympathetic way. “Aww...are you too poor to afford it? Or are you just afraid of doing something illegal?” 

He’d always hated her, and he’d known that she didn’t like him either. But this was new. 

“Bonnie. What the fuck?”

Someone was coming to his aid. But it wasn’t Charles. Charles was just standing there, looking slightly bemused. Magda, however, had taken a step toward Bonnie and was glaring at her. “Stop being a bitch,” she said.

Bonnie looked as though she wanted to retort for a moment, but then she just shrugged and grabbed Charles by his arm. “Suit yourselves, you fucking babies. Come on, Charles.” She pulled him with her, toward the club with the blazing neon sign. Charles threw a confused look back at Erik and Magda, but didn’t protest and allowed himself to be steered away.

Erik just stared after them, hardly comprehending what had just happened. He felt someone touch his arm, and heard Magda’s voice. “Come on. Let’s go to your place then.”

He followed her home, not speaking, still trying to make sense of what had happened. Why had Charles not said anything? Bonnie had been a real bitch to him. Why hadn’t Charles stood up for Erik? Weren’t they supposed to be friends? Didn’t Charles care? He swallowed, doing his best not to show how everything was falling apart on his face.

They reached the apartment and tiptoed into Erik’s bedroom, past the couch, on which Erik’s mother was already asleep.

Magda sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled him down next to her. She lifted her hand to his cheek and he turned to look at her.

“Forget about earlier,” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Erik didn’t answer. He’d love to forget about earlier, love to forget about the fact that Charles didn’t even care about Erik enough to defend him. But what could he do?

Magda’s lips found his. She’d never kissed him like this before. It wasn’t tentative, or playful, or chaste. Her hand was in his hair, and she was pulling him toward her, not aggressively, but determinedly. She was taking control, and he didn’t see any reason to stop her.

He allowed her to push him back into his pillow and straddle his thighs, leaning over him, still kissing him. He let her take his hands and place them on her hips. She slipped her cool hand under his shirt and caressed his chest.

He let it all happen. Let it help him forget. It was good to feel her everywhere, to have her weigh down on his legs and chest, and shield him from everything around him. He felt, for a moment, safe.

She kept kissing him, stroking his chest gently with her fingers. It was so easy to just let her get on with what she was doing, running his hands down her back. It didn’t take long until she’d shed her shirt and bra, and was pulling his sweater off too. He didn’t mind it. In fact, he craved closeness for once, and pulled her toward him, so that their stomachs and chests touched and their bodies warmed each other. She moved on him and Erik felt his cock slowly grow hard at the friction. Her hand that had been rubbing his chest  slowly trailed downwards until it reached the waistband of his jeans. He could sense her fingers fumbling with the metal button before it snapped open.

She slid off his legs and settled down next to him. Her hand trailed downwards and she slipped a few fingers into the waistband of his boxers. The tips of her fingers gently touched the base of his cock, and his mind was suddenly filled with an unwelcome image, a fantasy that he’d had several times while touching himself where Magda was now touching him.

Charles, lying next to him, instead of Magda. Charles, slowly slipping his fingers into Erik’s boxers, stroking his cock, biting Erik’s lip, moaning–

Erik sat up quickly, slapping Magda’s hand away. Cold sweat was rapidly forming on his back. He fumbled to button up his jeans over his now rock hard cock as fast as he could, before he swung his legs over his side of the bed and picked up his sweater from the floor to pull it on.

He hadn’t looked at Magda at all, neither had she made any noise, and now he had his back on her. An uncomfortable, cold silence filled the room as he just sat there, not daring to turn around and meet her eyes, his ears burning in humiliation.

“Erik?” She was whispering, but her voice cut sharply through the dense silence surrounding him. “Erik, what’s wrong?”

He couldn’t answer. There was a huge lump in his throat. 

He jumped as a tentative hand touched his shoulder, and Magda scrambled over the bed to sit down next to him. He kept his eyes fixed on his hands, which he’d folded in his lap. He was grateful for the darkness in his room.

“Erik, please look at me.”

With an immense effort he turned his head slightly toward her, so he could see her face out of the corner of his eye. She was fully dressed again, and she looked worried, flush with arousal and embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he croaked. “That was...” His voice trailed away. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. 

Magda looked down at her hands. She kept kneading her fingers, itching for something to do. “Erik?” she said again. “Do you...” She took a deep breath, then exhaled again slowly. “Does this have anything to do with Charles?”

It was as though someone had emptied a bucket full of ice-cold water over his head. He swallowed, then opened his mouth to speak. No sound came out, so he closed it again.

“You know,” she continued, still looking at her fingers. “I know he’s your best friend, and he means a lot to you, but...” she paused for a moment, apparently considering something, then went on. “I just...I see the way you look at him sometimes, in a way that...and I just thought, well...it doesn’t mean anything. But after...this...” She turned to look at him, an almost pleading look on her face.

Erik still couldn’t answer. He felt cornered and helpless. He could see no escape. He should never have let them get that far.

“Erik,” she whispered again, looking at him imploringly. “Are you in love with Charles?”

“What?” He was so surprised by what she’d just said that he stared at her as though she was mad. “No. Of course not.” He gave a nervous and incredulous laugh. “No, that’s not what this is about. I don’t...I mean...I’m not...” But even as he spoke, he realized that he was lying to her. Had been lying to himself. For years. His feelings for Charles, his  _ obsession _ with him, wouldn’t just pass. It was more than a crush, more than mere physical attraction. It couldn’t be erased by being with anyone else because  _ there’d never be anyone he’d love as much as he loved Charles. _ He was so jealous of everyone Charles got close to, he could only just stop himself from lashing out. He so desperately needed Charles to be there, needed him to  _ care. _ And he missed him, he missed him so much whenever he wasn’t around.

How could he have been so stupid?

Magda smiled sadly, as she watched him. “So it’s true then,” she said quietly.

Erik didn’t know what to say. What to do. It was just like that first night, the last time he ever let Charles in his mind.

“I’m not going to tell him, you know,” said Magda, still watching him with a very sad expression on her face. “Not unless you want me to.”

“No,” he said quickly, brokenly. “Please don’t.”

It occurred to him that he should probably comfort her, or apologize. Something. He knew she really liked him. But no words came to him that seemed appropriate, so he kept quiet.

After a moment, she stood up. “I’m going to go outside and call a taxi, if that’s alright with you.”

He nodded, still not sure what he could say to her. He should probably offer to wait with her outside. But he knew she probably didn’t want him around right now, so he just numbly watched her walk out of his room and carefully close the door behind her.


	16. 3.5 Senior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) deserves all the love for all the hard work she's put into this as my beta.

_ Chapter 3.5 _

**Senior High School**

January 2000

 

By the looks of it, New Year’s Eve had been a bad night for relationships in general. Charles and Bonnie had also broken up. Charles, however, didn’t seem at all upset by this. In fact, he stated with a broad smile that it was a good thing it had happened now, because he really needed all his time and energy to get all his applications ready for the various universities that he was considering.

“I’ve got big plans,” he said with a meaningful look at Erik. “I’m applying for all the good ones. One of them’s got to take me on.”

Erik just smiled and nodded. He didn’t know what to say to Charles. He was constantly afraid he might slip up and do something that would make Charles see right through him. But there was also a tiny, very unreasonable part of Erik that wanted just that to happen.

Their teachers had handed out leaflets with information on various colleges and other forms of education before the holidays, and Charles was eagerly looking through them, sorting them in two piles and making notes. Erik just sat there, leaning against his bed and watching him.

Every freckle on Charles’ nose and cheeks, that one curl in his hair just above his forehead, the sensual dip in his upper lip – Erik had seen all of these features thousands of times, but now it felt as though he’d never really seen them. Erik had been so busy trying to get his sexual thoughts about Charles out of his head and at the same time keep him close as his friend, that he’d been completely blind to his own feelings, and to everything that made him...love Charles like he did. He could see clearer now. He was  _ in love with Charles. _ More than anything. He probably always had been.

It scared him though...was he gay? He’d considered this briefly before, after he’d had one of his fantasies about Charles, but then he’d dismissed it quickly, telling himself that those thoughts would go away soon. Now, however...

Erik knew hardly anything about homosexuality. Their biology teacher had mentioned it briefly during their (rare and shitty) sex ed classes. He’d called it an ‘abnormality’ and a ‘disease,’ but Erik wasn’t too concerned by those words. He was sure that, in his teacher’s eyes, his mutation would be considered an ‘abnormality’ or a ‘disease’ in any case. If he was already abnormal in other people's eyes, he might as well be it in several ways.

What did concern him, however, was how it made him different from Charles. They’d always been ‘abnormal’ together in being mutants, but in this case Charles seemed to be just like everyone else. Erik had always thought that the reason why he himself had never been interested in any of the girls at school had simply been because they were all shallow, idiotic humans. Charles had never hated humans like Erik had, so it had seemed natural that Charles wouldn’t see that as a problem. But this didn’t explain his feelings for Charles. Shouldn’t it still be impossible for Erik to fall in love with a guy if he wasn’t...well. And besides, he’d really liked Magda, even though she was a human, but he’d never felt attracted to her. Not in the way that he liked Charles. Not even close.

“This sounds good,” said Charles suddenly, straightening up. He was holding one of the leaflets, and looked rather excited. “Listen to this:  _ ‘The Molecular and Cellular Biology concentration emphasizes the intersection of modern research in cellular biology with medicine and society. It is rooted...’ _ blah blah blah...” He traced his finger further down the page. “ _ ‘It focuses on fundamental principles of modern biology at the hub of nearly all life science sub-disciplines, and integrates many different methodologies ranging from chemistry and genetics to computer science and engineering, as well as fundamental concepts in physics and mathematics.’ _ And you can focus entirely on genetics later if you want. What do you think?” He looked eagerly at Erik.

Erik hesitated for a moment. “Sounds like something you might enjoy,” he said then.

Charles’ face fell. “Don’t you...don’t you think it sounds interesting?”

“Of course I do. That’s what I just said.”

“No,” said Charles, with a slightly annoyed look on his face. “I meant, don’t you think this might be interesting for you as well?”

Erik took the leaflet out of his friend’s hand. Of course he’d known what Charles meant. He’d thought about this many times, and he’d known that this conversation would come sooner or later. He glanced at the leaflet. “Charles, there’s no way in hell that I can afford to go to Harvard.”

Charles bit his lip. “I’ve got a large college fund. I wouldn’t mind–”

“I don’t want your money!” Erik snapped. He knew Charles meant well, but sometimes... “They wouldn’t accept me anyway. Look at my grades! ”

“But then...” Charles looked slightly panicky now. “What will you do instead?”

Erik shrugged. “I don’t know. Something practical. Something with metal.”

“You could still come with me though,” said Charles with a nervous smile. “I’m sure there’re many opportunities for that in Massachusetts.”

Erik shook his head. He found it increasingly difficult to keep looking at Charles, so he chose to stare at his hands instead. “I can’t leave mom,” he said. “She’d be all alone. I can’t do that to her. I thought I’d apply for something in New York City. That way I could come and see her during the weekends at least.”

There was silence for a while. Erik still couldn’t bring himself to look at his friend. Maybe Charles was angry with him. He’d certainly looked disappointed earlier.

Erik wasn’t happy about them being torn apart either. The very idea of Charles leaving him made his heart ache terribly. But he knew that it was probably for the best. Maybe a few months apart was exactly what he needed. Maybe his feelings would change if he didn’t see Charles for a while. Sure, it would hurt like hell at first, and he’d feel more lonely than ever for a while. But maybe, this way, they could simply be best friends again once Charles returned. If he returned.

A cold hand had taken hold of Erik’s insides. It was very possible that Charles would meet some university girl at Harvard, fall in love, get married, have tons of children, be happy with  _ someone else. _ He’d meet so many new people there. He wouldn’t need Erik anymore. Erik clenched his fists involuntarily. He was going to lose everything, he knew it. But he couldn’t go on like this either. And he hadn’t lied when he’d said that he couldn’t leave his mother.

He heard Charles exhale forcefully, and finally found the strength to look at his friend again. Charles was pale, even more so than usual.

“But I’ll see you during the holidays then, won’t I?” said Charles with a forced smile that looked almost like a grimace.

Erik nodded, also attempting to smile. “Of course.”


	17. 3.6 Senior High School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my dear friend and beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight).

_ Chapter 3.6 _

**Senior High School**

February - August 2000

 

They both tried to talk around the subject best they could during the following months. Charles sent out multiple applications in case Harvard rejected him, though Erik couldn’t imagine that happening. Charles had always had only top marks, and Erik couldn’t see him performing badly in his Regents exams*. Plus, he came from a rich family and could easily afford to go. Erik was convinced they’d hurry to accept him as soon as they got his application. They’d be stupid not to. But for a while he was surprised to see there was no reply, although Charles told him that was completely normal, and that confirmation letters weren’t to be expected before June.

The days warmed again, but for once Erik was approaching summer with trepidation instead of excitement. It was stupid, he knew it, to worry so much about what would happen once Charles left. It simply had to happen. They couldn’t keep going like this. But nevertheless he was dreading the loneliness already, the idea of not seeing Charles almost every day. The whole affair made him feel more helpless than he’d felt even in those days that he’d been constantly bullied in school. Back then he’d mostly been angry and defiant, but now he was just...resigned. He was hardly able to get up in the mornings to go to school, and he couldn’t get himself interested in anything anymore. He hadn’t touched anything metal in weeks. He hadn’t studied for his Regents exams. He hadn’t begun reading up on training opportunities involving metal in the city, let alone send out any applications. He hardly even got aroused over his fantasies of Charles anymore, and every time he did, he felt a thousand times worse afterwards.

Charles’ birthday was followed directly by their Regents exams. Erik was almost surprised when he found out that he’d passed everything, even though he hadn’t done exceptionally well, while Charles, as expected, received top marks in every subject. They were free now, school was over, and Erik certainly didn’t miss it, though he would have preferred it to keep going if that had meant that the moment of Charles’ departure would still be far away.

Charles sent his Regents scores to all the universities he’d applied to as soon as he got them, and didn’t sleep over anymore, as he was so eager to check the mail for any confirmation letters. Erik nervously watched him arrive every morning, waiting for the moment that Charles would greet him beaming and announce that Harvard had accepted him.

It happened in early July, only weeks after they’d finished school. Erik’s mother cheered loudly at the news and hugged Charles close to her chest, before she announced proudly that this called for a celebration, and swept out of the house to get everything she needed for a celebratory dinner.

Erik did his best to look happy as well. He hugged Charles briefly, and congratulated him on achieving his goal. He knew how much this meant to him, and how long he’d dreamed of it, but the thought that Charles would definitely be leaving only broke his heart. Not even telling himself that it was all for the best made it all go away.

Dinner was amazing, but Erik could hardly bring himself to eat anything at all. He just sat on his chair, listening to Charles talking excitedly about everything he was planning to do at Harvard, and what life at university was going to be like, feeling more miserable by the minute.

During the next few weeks Charles was incredibly busy getting ready for his move to Cambridge, which meant that Erik hardly saw him. He was starting to panic now. Charles was about to leave, and they wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while. They should really be making the most of the time they had left, but it just seemed to slip away, while Charles was too busy doing whatever it was that he was doing to spend any time with Erik.

Charles finally told Erik the date of his departure only a few days before. Besides his panic, Erik was now annoyed and hurt. Erik knew Charles didn’t love him the way he loved Charles, but nevertheless he’d thought that Charles cared about him at least. His frustration reached a new high, when Charles announced that he wanted to attend the end-of-school/leaving/whatever party a group of students in their year had organized, which fell exactly on the night before Charles’ departure. Erik had counted on at least having that last evening together. Not doing much, just playing chess, laughing, talking, whatever. Something he could remember and hold on to. Not another stupid party.

But he agreed to go. Of course he did. What other choice did he have? He met Charles outside the gym that their classmates used for the party, and mentally prepared himself for another terrible evening, trying very hard not to think about the next day, and determined to make the most of this night in spite of everything. He was going to swallow his bitterness and have fun with Charles.

Before they entered, Charles glanced at him. “I’m leaving in the morning. The chauffeur will drive me. You’ll be there to say goodbye, won’t you?”

Erik nodded. “Sure. What time?”

“Around nine. I know that’s early,” Charles added quickly before Erik could react at all. “I know you’ll have to set your alarm clock and everything, but, you know...” He took a deep breath. “I probably won’t find the time to come back here before Christmas.”

That was a long time. Erik swallowed. He’d known that Charles wouldn’t have the time to come and see him often, but he hadn’t expected that they wouldn’t see each other for five months at a time.

He nodded, forcing a smile. “No problem. I’ll be there.”

The party was bad, even worse than Erik had anticipated. As soon as they entered, Charles was swarmed by giggling girls, and pulled away from him. Erik walked to the side of the room and sat down on a chair, as usual ignored by everyone around. Every now and again he’d spot Charles briefly, waving at him, or taking a step in his direction, but every single time he was kept back by one of the girls, or one of his soccer mates.

The later it got, the more tightly Erik’s fists and teeth clenched. He couldn’t believe this. This should have been their evening. Their goodbye. They wouldn’t see each other until Christmas, but did Charles care? Was he maybe glad to finally get away? Well, if he was, why was he asking Erik to see him off the following morning? Did he think that was enough? Those few moments? Was that all Erik meant to him? Well, he could stick that up his ass. Erik wasn’t going to be pushed around like this.

He got up and strode over to where Charles was standing, talking to a group of girls, and grabbed him by his arm. “I need to talk to you. Now. Outside,” he said through his teeth.

“Oh, look who’s being aggressive now, it’s the Hobo!” shrieked one of the girls, which was followed by a round of laughter from the others. Charles didn’t laugh though, and he let Erik pull him outside without protest.

By the looks of him, Charles was once again quite drunk. He seemed to have trouble getting Erik’s face into focus, and as he spoke he slurred his words slightly. Nevertheless, he seemed to understand what was going on. “Sorry, Erik. There’re so many people here, and I’m probably not going to see them again anytime soon, so I had to say goodbye–”

“To  _ them? _ You have to say  _ goodbye _ to  _ them?" _ Erik could hardly believe his ears. “You don’t give a flying _ fuck _ about me, do you? I came with you, to this nightmare of a goddamn party, even though I hate parties more than fucking anything, just so I could maybe spend some time with you before you leave, but you just...” He wracked his brains, desperately searching for words harsh enough to describe Charles’ betrayal. “You just...the only thing you care about is ‘being normal,’ isn’t it? You keep sucking up to them, as usual – because you don’t have any fucking pride, do you? Them? Seriously?” He pointed a shaking finger at the building they’d just left. His heart was beating furiously now. He knew he was talking himself into a rage. He was even dimly aware that he wasn’t really being reasonable anymore, that he was talking about something else, something that had been buried deep inside him, all the old hurts that didn’t exactly have anything to do with this evening anymore. But he didn’t care. This needed out. And Charles needed to hear this. “Well, you know what, Charles? Fuck you. If that’s what you are, I don’t fucking need you. I’m better off without a friend like that. It’s a good thing you’re leaving, because I’m sick of you!”

He turned around and walked away, his fists still clenched and shaking, his breathing uneven. As soon as he’d rounded the corner and was sure that Charles couldn’t see him anymore, he broke into a run. He didn’t even know why he was running, but it was the only thing that felt right anymore. He ran, and ran, without stopping once, not even when he had a stitch and his breath came in gasps. He kept running until he reached his apartment. He burst through the door and kept going, ignoring his mother calling him in alarm. He didn't stop until he reached his bed, burying his face in his pillow, shaking with stifled sobs.

He ignored his mother’s knocks and worried questions on the other side of his door, until he finally heard her retreat.

Clasping his pillow tightly, he buried his face in it even deeper. That was it. He’d truly fucked it up. Charles would never forgive him. Not after what he’d said tonight. It was over. He’d lost the one person he’d ever cared about. The only one he’d ever loved that wasn’t his blood. 

A strangled sob escaped his throat, muffled by his pillow, but it was enough to break the dam. He began to shake, tears flooding out of his eyes and soaking his pillow. He hadn’t cried in years, not really. Not with real tears. But now he was unable to stop. It was as though his body was trying to get rid of all the misery it had kept locked up inside, flooding it out. Erik knew, however, that it was no good. Nothing would be better after he’d cried. It was all just going to get so much worse now.

He didn’t know for how long his tears kept coming. He seemed to have lost his concept of time, but at some point he just slipped away into a deep, unthinking sleep, and didn’t wake until late the next morning.

Long after Charles had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *: Regents exams are end of year tests taken in the State of New York to determine whether students have met the required educational standards to receive a high school diploma.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------
> 
> My friends, I'm really terribly sorry. :((((((
> 
> This was Part Three. As usual, I don't know when I'll be ready to start uploading Part Four. It totally depends on when my beta finds the time to wrap up her editing on this part, but I hope it won't be more than a few days!  
> See you soon!


	18. 4.1 Apprenticeship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends, I'm back! It's almost three years later. Enjoy!
> 
> Thanks again to my wonderful, hard-working beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), for defying all difficulties and problems and making this work! I love you!

**_PART FOUR_ **

 

_ Chapter 4.1 _

**Apprenticeship**

May 2003

 

Erik was woken abruptly by a loud banging noise. He jerked upright, looking wildly around for the source of the noise, slightly confused that he wasn’t in his old bedroom in his mother’s apartment. His brain took a moment to catch up on his surroundings before his eyes darted to the door. The gruff voice of his boss following the pounding of forger fists on wood. “You still in there? I need you downstairs. Now.”

Erik threw a glance at the clock radio next to his bed and groaned. 8:30 am. He must have missed his alarm going off. Either that, or he’d switched it off automatically without really waking up. Anyway. This was bad. “I’ll be down in a minute!”

Unsurprisingly, there was no answer, but Erik heard heavy footsteps on the tiny wooden staircase, Mr. Brown impatiently going back to the shop.

Erik flung his legs over the side of the bed and rummaged in the pile of clothes next to it to retrieve his work shirt and pants. He was dressed within a minute, and downstairs, wearing his shoes and apron, in another. Mr. Brown was talking to a customer in the shop. Erik nodded politely at her and slipped quickly through the door that lead into the workshop.

Everything was just as he’d left it the evening before. He was in the middle of creating a large and elaborate platinum ring with an emerald stone, a special order by one of their regular customers. She was very wealthy and had extremely high demands, but she seemed to approve of Erik’s work, judging by the many orders she had placed since Mr. Brown had yielded more and more responsibility to him.

Erik mostly worked alone in the workshop these days, while Mr. Brown tended to the shop. Mr. Brown’s fingers weren’t as swift as they’d surely once been and his eyes seemed to be getting worse as well, so he was more than glad to let Erik do the handy work now that he’d earned his trust. Erik had no idea how old his master really was (he’d never asked him), but what little hair he had was completely white, the lines in his face very deep, and he had a slight hump in his back. Due to his age, Erik had been more than surprised when Mr. Brown had actually agreed to take him on as his apprentice on short notice almost three years ago, and had even helped him get into an apprenticeship program in the city.

The workshop had become Erik’s retreat in those last two and a half years. Mr. Brown had trusted Erik quickly when it became apparent that Erik had a special talent for working with metals, and had let him get on with his work on his own, only occasionally checking on his progress. Erik was more than happy for the space. He worked best when he was left alone. He knew how to work with the forge, the blowtorch, and all the instruments of course, but he didn’t need them; he could craft the jewelry much more precisely without them, feeling the metal in his hand and directing it solely with his power into the form he desired it to take. Nevertheless, he was careful to always have all the instruments close by, and made sure the fire didn’t go out whenever he was working on something larger that needed to be forged even when it made the room stiflingly hot, just so he could pretend to be working like a ‘normal human’ whenever Mr. Brown checked on him.

Erik liked the isolation. Since using his power had become so intuitive, he didn’t have to pay a lot of attention to what he was doing a lot of the time. Like laying the groundwork for a piece of jewelry. Having his hands and his power occupied helped him think, and that was basically what Erik did all day.

As he worked on polishing over the ring, his mind wandered back to the dream he’d had just before Mr. Brown had woken him up. He honestly thought he’d been in his old bedroom. He could remember Charles being there. When he and Charles had still been friends. That bedroom wasn’t even Erik’s anymore. He hadn’t slept in it since he’d moved out of his mother’s apartment; his mother used that room now. Erik wracked his brain, trying to remember more details from his dream. But it was like holding water with bare hands. The memories just kept slipping away the more he tried to grasp at them. It had definitely been a good dream though. He hadn’t felt at all upset as he’d woken up (and that was a rarity) – he was  _ happy. _ But it was just a dream, nothing more.

Erik turned his attention back to the ring in his hands to put the finishing touches on the embellishments around the stone. That was something he couldn’t do with his mind half on his dreams. Each design was always different, always unique, and they never turned out great if he didn’t bestow on them the attention they deserved. He worked in concentration for a while, undisturbed by Mr. Brown who was apparently busy in the shop, or else resting.

 

Mr. Brown didn’t bring up Erik oversleeping again. True, they didn’t talk much to each other beyond the necessary instructions or otherwise well-meaning, if half-assed, attempts at small talk. And Mr. Brown trusted Erik, in general. It had never happened before, and Erik would make sure it would never happen again. He didn’t go out much in any case, and was in bed early enough most nights. He didn’t really know anyone in New York City to go out with, besides the occasional  nameless man he’d pick up at gay bars for a few hours of meaningless sex. But even that only happened once, maybe twice a month, when his desire for real body contact became overwhelming. Just distractions to take the edge off. 

Sometimes he wondered what his teenage self would think about him mixing with ordinary humans to fulfill his needs. But then, what did it matter? What other options were there? Erik wasn’t even sure whether it had ever really been about humans and mutants, even back then. Hadn’t it just been about him and Charles being together, being everything to each other, defying a world that had treated them horribly? And now there was no Charles, nobody who meant as much to him anymore. What did it matter now? What did it matter whether the countless, faceless, meaningless people around him were humans? What point was there in cutting himself off entirely from the rest of the world? What was there to be gained from being completely alone?

The only person Erik still really talked to was his mother, and he only saw her on weekends, when he packed his car and made the one hour drive to her apartment. She was always happy to see him, feeding him dinner upon dinner  whenever he came. She still insisted on spoiling him with all his favorites, and he couldn’t really complain, since all he lived on was fast food and bread during the week. But it also seemed like she didn’t make as much of an effort cooking for herself while he was away, judging by the amount of weight she’d lost in the last two years. Whenever he arrived, she was already looking out the window, waiting for him and waving happily; the apartment smelling deliciously of dinner when he’d open the door. Those were the moments when he felt truly home.

“Eat something. You’re looking peaky, Erik.”

He was already halfway through his second helping of chicken and green beans. “I’m not peaky, mom. I’m eating well. You are though.”

She waved her hand impatiently. “Tell me about your week.”

Erik shrugged. “Same as always. I worked, ate, and slept. Nothing spectacular.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Talking to you is like getting blood out of a stone. Come on. Tell me about your work. Any special orders?”

He smiled slightly at her pretend exasperation. They’d always been like this together. He missed it when he was in the city and she wasn’t around, though he didn’t tell her because he knew she’d only be upset. “That rich older lady I told you about made a few orders. I hardly have the time to work on other stuff actually.”

“Well, she knows you’re the best jeweler out there,” said his mother proudly. “That woman knows quality when she sees it. Good for her.”

Erik didn’t respond, but he watched her fondly as she began rambling about her neighbor’s daughter and how well she was doing in school. He’d never been particularly great in school. But then great to him was Charles-great. Erik had done well enough, but he’d never been as good as Charles. And that was what probably could’ve convinced universities to ignore his less savory record, if he’d bothered in the first place. Nevertheless his mother had always been convinced he had something special to offer, even though nobody else had seen it (except maybe Charles). She’d always believed in him, and she was more than proud now that he was doing so well at his job. He felt like leaning over the table to give her a hug, but then she’d probably get emotional and start asking him very personal questions, so he ignored the impulse.

His mother had emptied her plate, and put it aside to rest her elbows on the table and look at him, with an only half-concealed smile. “Actually, I’ve got something to show you.”

“Oh yeah?” He looked at her, raising his eyebrows.

Her face broke into a beaming smile. “Well, yes. Something wonderful actually. Guess what arrived this week?”

He had the impression that she’d been dying to tell him something since he’d arrived two hours earlier, and that she’d only been holding herself back waiting for a special moment. He was clueless though. “Have you ordered something for the apartment?” 

He looked around to see if something had changed. A lot of things definitely needed improvement. The dinner table was wonky, the wallpaper old and faded, and the couch was rubbed through in several places, where the lining was showing. He didn’t see anything new though.

“No, silly,” she said, beaming even wider. “It’s something for you. Just wait until you see it!”

Slightly bemused, he watched her rummage in the kitchen drawer directly behind her chair, and retrieve a letter, which she pushed at him across the table. He took it, and saw that it was addressed to him.

His heart missed a beat. He knew that handwriting, he knew it almost better than his own. He turned the letter around hastily, his heart beating hard and fast, to check that he wasn’t mistaken, that this letter really was from—

There it was. That name. The one that he hadn’t seen written down in almost three years, but which had haunted him in his sleep more often than he liked to admit even to himself.

_ Charles Xavier. _ Followed by his university address. Erik took a deep breath and then released it again slowly.

So Charles was still at Harvard. He’d probably either already finished his undergraduate degree, or was close to doing so. For a moment Erik had a mental image of Charles, sitting in a large auditorium, taking notes with his face inches from the paper, a slight frown on his face. Just the way Erik remembered him in school.

But now Charles had written to him, and Erik wasn’t sure whether to feel excited or apprehensive about it. This couldn’t be bad, could it? They hadn’t spoken or written to each other at all since that party the night before Charles had left. If Charles was still angry with Erik, if he even felt hatred toward him, there was no reason for Charles to send him a letter now, was there? Not after all this time, surely. It would be so much easier to just keep ignoring him if Charles still hated him. No, it couldn’t be bad, could it? It had to be something good. Charles, finally reaching out to him, telling Erik he missed him, that he wanted to see him again. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something big.

“Go on. Open it!” His mother’s voice was eager and full of anticipation.

He hesitated. All he wanted to do right now was tear open the letter and read it through several times. Read it as long as it took to memorize every single word, so he could play them again and again in his mind in Charles’ voice. His hand was shaking because he wanted it so much. And he loved his mother, he really did. But this moment was something he didn’t quite feel like sharing with her. This was Charles’ letter. It was  _ Charles. _ She was excited and curious, no doubt about that. But she couldn’t understand, couldn’t possibly  _ understand _ what this  _ meant. _ She didn’t know that Erik’s heart was beating so hard that he was beginning to feel sick. That he’d probably be hardly able to read right now at any rate, because his vision had become slightly blurred. He couldn’t share this. Not even with her.

Erik put the letter down on the table. “I’ll read it later,” he said firmly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she piped up at once. “I know you want to read it. I can see it in your face.”

“Not now,” he said, not looking at her.

“You miss him!”

Contradicting her would be futile, so Erik just shrugged. “I’ll read it later,” he repeated.


	19. 4.2 Apprenticeship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still love my beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), to bits, who also wrote and added two parts of this chapter (which ones can be seen in the notes at the end).

_ Chapter 4.2 _

**Apprenticeship**

May - June 2003

 

Erik’s mother couldn’t let it go all evening. The letter lay on the table, small and inconspicuous, and yet it drew both their eyes again and again. She suggested watching a movie in the living room, but her legs kept bouncing and she kept touching her necklace, which made him think that she was only just keeping herself from leaping up and retrieving the letter to force him to open it.

She went to bed very reluctantly, but gave in when Erik told her he was tired from an early morning. She kept throwing him half-exasperated, half-impatient looks while they brushed their teeth, then followed him into the living room hopefully. Her eyes kept flicking to the envelope on the table as she kissed him goodnight, and before she disappeared into the bedroom, she turned to look at it and him pointedly one last time.

Erik waited a few minutes to make sure she wasn’t coming back, before he picked up the letter and settled in on the old couch that his mother used to sleep on while he’d still lived with her. Pulling his blanket over himself, he lay there for another minute, just staring at the little envelope. His initial urge to just rip open the letter and read it over and over had disappeared and the dread had settled in. What if Charles had nothing good to say? He might not be angry, but what if he was cold, impersonal,  _ indifferent? _ After all these godawful lonely years? Maybe it was just something like  _ ‘I noticed that you’ve still got my hoodie. Would you please send it to the following address...’  _ Even if  Erik did still have a hoodie of Charles’ (maybe he took it out sometimes to put it on, imagining that it still smelled like Charles, even though that was hardly possible), it would make no sense for Charles to send him a letter after almost three years, only to tell him something as trivial as that, surely?

Erik sighed. He should just stop and read the letter. With slightly trembling fingers he ripped open the envelope and pulled out a thin sheaf of paper. Taking a deep breath, he unfolded them, and began to read.

_ 'Dear Erik, _

_ I hope this reaches you alright. I don’t know whether you or your mother still live in the same apartment, though I very much hope that you do. I don’t really have any other means of contacting you. _

_ How are you? And your mom? It’s been ages, hasn’t it? What have you been up to? Have you found out what you want to do? _

_ I’m doing alright. I’ve activated Advanced Standing (not very interesting, this just means I’m getting through my studies quicker), so I’ll already be done with my master’s degree in genetics next year. Crazy, right? _

_ I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do next, though I’m fairly sure I want to teach, so I’ll probably try and get my PhD next. I’ve gotten some experience tutoring at college, and I’ve really enjoyed it, but it’s still hard to decide what to do for the rest of your life, isn’t it? Have you decided yet? _

_ I’m so sorry I haven’t written to you sooner. I’ve missed three of your birthdays, including your 21st. Happy (late) birthday for all of them! I’m really sorry I never sent you a card or anything. I did think of you, but I just somehow didn’t manage to send anything in time. _

_ I’m not sure if you remember, but my 21st birthday is only a month away! It’s also a Saturday, which is great, since I’m planning to have a huge party. I was wondering whether you’d like to come and celebrate with me. It would really mean a lot. And maybe I could show you around campus on Sunday, so you know what my life has been like. Obviously I want to know exactly what you’ve been up to those last years! _

_ You can send me a letter back or, even better, call me or send me a text. You can find my cell number underneath my address. _

_ I’m looking forward to your reply, and I’m really hoping you can make it. _

_ Please say hello to your mom for me. _

_ All the best, _

_ Charles.’ _

Erik picked up the envelope again to examine Charles’ address. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there was indeed a phone number squeezed underneath it. Charles’ number. Which Erik would probably have to call because he didn’t have a cell phone to text instead.

He put the envelope down again to read the letter once more. Then a third time. Then a fourth.

It was strange how Charles’ writing sounded so familiar and yet distant at the same time. He could definitely hear Charles’ voice saying those things, but it wasn’t as though there was a lot of...intimacy in it. It was a nice letter, better than what he’d expected, but it didn’t particularly sound as if there was still any special connection between them, did it? Charles was writing to a friend he hadn’t seen in a long time, but not an especially important one. Or was Erik reading too much into it? What had he expected? A declaration of love? This was definitely better than anything he’d thought would happen before he’d seen the letter. And Charles had written that he’d thought of him, and he was really hoping to see Erik. To catch up.

Erik sank back into his pillow, noticing only now how very tense he was. He tried to relax. This was good. He’d see Charles again. There was no way he couldn’t go. His mother was right. He did miss Charles. It would be fine. It didn’t sound as though Charles was still mad at him either. He didn’t even mention their fight. His letter sounded as though they’d never fallen out at all. Should Erik just go with that? Or apologize for what he’d said? But he was thinking too far already. He’d first need to call Charles and tell him that he was coming to his party. Call Charles. It was a thrilling and terrifying thought. Would he even be able to get out a single word? This needed planning and preparation…or maybe he could just send Charles a letter instead.

Erik was a fucking coward.

 

His mother didn’t waste any time pursuing the mystery of the letter as soon as she’d spotted the open envelope the next morning. She put down the kettle she’d been filling with water at once, and hurried to sit next to him on the couch, looking at him expectantly. He just gave her the letter to read for herself, and got up to make coffee instead. There wasn’t really anything in it that was worth keeping secret anyway.

“Erik, you’ve got to go.”

“I know that, thanks.”

He carried the coffeepot over, then began setting the table. His mother hadn’t moved from her seat on the couch. It looked like she was reading the letter again.

“He’s doing so well, isn’t he? Finishing extra quickly. He was always a clever little boy, and so interested in everything.”

Erik sat down at the table and took a slice of bread. “Unlike me.”

His mother smiled as she joined him, neatly folding the letter and putting it away again. “Well, you’ve got other talents. You’ve found your path, and so has Charles. I’m proud of both of you. My boys.” She smiled, but he could still see the sadness around the edges.

They ate in silence for a while, before his mother spoke again, slowly and with a small smile on her lips. “I’m very happy you’re going to see him, Erik. And I hope you boys can have a nice talk and be friends again. I know you’ve missed him, and I’m sure he’s missed you to.” She swallowed and looked at him, slightly teary-eyed. “You know, it really broke my heart to see the two of you break apart. You were always so much happier when he was around. And it would be such a relief for me to know that you’re not alone.”

Erik laughed a little embarrassedly. “Thanks, mom. That’s really nice. But I’m not alone. I’ve got you, don’t I?”

She smiled sadly, patting his hand. “Sure, Schatz. But I’m not really a substitute for a friend. And Charles was the best friend you could possibly have. Don’t miss this chance.”

Erik knew that she was right. And that was part of what made him nervous, though the idea of seeing and talking to Charles in general was both exciting and terrifying in turn.

 

He spent the next few weeks anxiously debating whether to call Charles on his cell phone, or just send him a letter. He kept putting it off for so long that he woke up drenched in sweat one morning to the realization that Charles’ birthday was only a week away, and that it was now far too late to send Charles a reply by letter and hope to get another answer back in time with details on when and where he should go.

Maybe it was even too late to call Charles. He might have already planned his party for a precise number of people and would angrily tell Erik that he should have called him earlier if he really was interested in coming and that he never wanted to hear from him again. And anyway, it was Charles’  _ birthday. _ Erik needed a present. He couldn’t just turn up after everything that had happened without a gift for Charles.

By the time Charles’ birthday was only three days away, Erik completely lost his head. He accidentally melted a gold ring he’d almost finished, and had to start all over. The same day he almost set the whole building on fire as he knocked over a wooden chair straight into the forge. Mr. Brown wasn’t impressed with him, but he concluded that Erik obviously wasn’t feeling too well, and sent him up to his room in the attic to rest early in the afternoon.

Erik didn’t go to bed though. He kept pacing his room, his hands shaking, his heart beating faster than ever, panic rising up in his throat and settling there as a giant lump. What if he’d blown it now, what if he’d actually blown his one chance to get back to being Charles’ friend again, only because he couldn’t get up the courage to call him?

It was past midnight, and still Erik was pacing. He hadn’t even had any dinner, though he didn’t feel hungry anyway. His stomach must have shrunk during those last weeks. There never seemed to be much room in it these days. 

It was completely quiet. Mr. Brown must have long since retreated into his apartment behind the workshop. That meant the shop was empty. And the phone was there, ready to be used, and nobody would disturb him.

Finding his balls somewhere, Erik pulled open his bedroom door and slipped down the wooden staircase into the shop. Before he knew what he was doing, he was dialing the number of Charles’ cell phone (which at this point, he knew by heart. _Pathetic_.), and it rang. And rang. And rang. Maybe he should hang up?

_ "Hello?” _

It was definitely Charles’ voice. Erik opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

_ "Who is this?” _

Charles sounded sleepy, as though he’d just woken up. Panicking, Erik shot a look at the clock on the wall. It was almost 1 am. Maybe Charles had already been asleep, and Erik had woken him. Why didn’t he even think about that?

_ "Hello? Somebody there?” _

“Yes! I’m sorry. It’s Erik.”  _ Gott, _ he sounded like such an overeager teenager.

There was a moment’s pause at the other end.

_ "Erik? For real? My Erik—?”  _ Erik swore he heard Charles suck in a breath, but he said nothing else. Not that Erik could be sure with the rush of blood in his ears.

“Ye—yeah.” He could cry. “It’s me.”

_ "Wow, I—oh my god, Erik, I didn’t even expect—how are you?” _

“Fine. I’m fine. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier. I was kind of…busy. Would it still be okay if I came to your party?”

Charles laughed. Erik's heart skipped a beat.

_ "Of course. Yeah! That’s great! When will you be here? You can come on Friday if you want, and stay here all weekend.” _

“Well, I...” This sounded both enticing and terrible. What if they didn’t get along anymore? Erik didn’t know how to act around Charles, or what to say anymore. “I kind of thought I’d go see my mom on Friday and then go there on Saturday. It’s kind of on the way.”

_ "Yeah, sure. Great! You’ll stay the night though, right? I’ve got room for you.”  _ Without waiting for a reply, he went on. _ “Where do you live then?” _

“Brooklyn.”

_ "Brooklyn, wow, that’s amazing! What are you doing now?” _

“I’m training to become a jeweler. Almost done actually.”

_ "That’s…wonderful, Erik. Brilliant. Tell me everything, I want to know all about it when you come. Hang on, I’ll give you the address for the party. I’ll be there all day doing prep and stuff, so you can come whenever you like.” _

“Right.” Erik scribbled the address down on the little notepad they usually kept for customers’ orders and remarks. For a moment there was silence. When Charles spoke again, he sounded slightly breathless.

_ "So I’ll see you this weekend, yeah? Can’t wait! Have a safe trip!” _

“Thank you. I’ll see you. Charles.”  _ Charles. _

_ "Good night. Erik." _ Charles’ voice wrapped around his name, as gently as it used to. For a moment, it felt like everything in Erik’s world was just...good...again.

Charles hung up. For a while Erik just stood there, phone limp in his hand, staring at the address he’d scribbled down. So that was it. He was going to see Charles again. In less than three days. And he needed a present. Everything else could wait. He definitely needed a present before he began worrying about anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts written by [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) (and, yes, they're both awesome additions!):
> 
> ' _My Erik — ?”_ Erik swore he heard Charles suck in a breath, but he said nothing else. Not that Erik could be sure with the rush of blood in his ears.'
> 
>  
> 
> ' _Charles._
> 
>  _“Good night. Erik.”_ Charles’ voice wrapped around his name, as gently as it used to. For a moment, it felt like everything in Erik’s world was just...good...again.'


	20. 4.3 Apprenticeship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) is the best beta! She also wrote two small parts of this chapter. You can see which ones in the notes at the end.

_Chapter 4.3_

**Apprenticeship**

7 June 2003

 

Erik’s mother was possibly even more excited than him. She didn’t talk about anything but Charles and Erik, them being friends again, the birthday party, all evening. She made three different kinds of cake and a birthday card, which she all forced on Erik before he got into his car on Saturday morning, ignoring his reminder that Charles had organized a big party, and probably had more than enough cake already. “You just make sure he gets the card, mein Schatz. And give him a big hug and kiss from me when you see him.”

Erik doubted very much that he’d be hugging or kissing Charles at all, but he didn’t say anything as he waved goodbye to her and took off.

It was a three hour journey to Cambridge, hot and sunny in the middle of summer. Erik was unsure whether he wanted the drive to be longer or shorter. He couldn’t wait to see Charles again, despite all his nerves. To see the person he was now, how much he was _still_ the same person from before. To refresh his memory of those blue eyes. His red, red lips. But he was also terrified that everything could go wrong. What if they realized that they had nothing in common anymore? That they’d developed into two completely different people who had nothing to say to each other? It was a possibility. They’d lived completely different lives in the last three years. What if that had changed them? And what if the opposite happened? What if Erik fell completely and utterly in love with Charles again? He didn’t exactly feel indifferent towards Charles now, and still thought about him all the goddamn time. But for a year it hadn’t hurt quite as much anymore. He was making progress in getting over Charles. What if he destroyed all of it now? Go back to not sleeping, not eating, being hardly able to get through his day?

It was already past noon when Erik finally arrived at the address Charles had given him. It was a small and inconspicuous building, and there didn’t seem to be any people around. When Erik entered, however, he could already hear voices and scraping noises from somewhere downstairs, so he went to have a look.

There was a large room in the basement with a stone floor, a pool table, and a bar in the corner. Erik spotted Charles at once. He had his back to Erik, helping a blonde girl carry a wooden table to the side of the room. Pop music was playing quietly in the background, and the space was illuminated by colorful lamps. There were also two other people in the room. A dark-haired girl, setting up glasses at the bar, and a lanky dark-haired boy with horn-rimmed glasses, hanging up paper streamers.

The lanky boy spotted Erik first. “Can I help you?”

Charles turned around at his words, and a wide smile spread across his face instantly. “Erik! You’re here!”

They met halfway through the room, and before Erik had decided how to greet his old friend, Charles had thrown his arms around him in a hug that never ended, making Erik’s ears go hot.

“Happy birthday,” he just remembered to say as they broke apart. Charles beamed at him. He looked almost exactly the same as three years ago, his eyes were even bluer than Erik’s memory of them. He’d filled out a bit more, more slender than the lanky he used to be. But still, still he was beautiful. It was clear by Charles’ smile how genuinely glad he was to see him. Erik’s heart was racing. Oh god. Please, no.

“Thanks.” How was it possible that the whole room lit up when Charles smiled, and that Erik felt as though he was floating? Charles glanced over Erik’s shoulder. “Where have you got your stuff?”

“Oh, it’s—it’s back in my car. Can I drop it somewhere?”

Charles pointed at a door behind his shoulder. “You can put it all in there. And whenever you want to go to bed tonight, you just tell me. Then I’ll show you to my room. My roommate has very kindly agreed to lend you his bed for the night. He’s staying with his girlfriend.” He half turned to grin at the blonde girl standing behind him, who stuck her tongue out at him. “I can’t show you right now unfortunately. There’s so much to do. Do you think that’ll be okay?”

Due to his mother’s cakes Erik had to walk three times to retrieve everything from his car. But it was definitely worth it. Charles was practically _shining_ when he saw them. He’d always loved Edie’s baking.

Erik didn’t get much of a chance to speak to Charles after that though. Charles had been right in thinking that there was still a lot to do and Erik, who didn’t just want to stand around watching the others work, pitched in. First he helped Charles and the blonde girl ( _Raven_ , he introduced her fondly) set up four tables at the wall, then accompanied her to a storeroom around the corner to retrieve a couple of couches and chairs, while Charles set up all the food and drinks on the tables.

All the while, Raven had watched Erik curiously. When they were alone in the storeroom together, she finally spoke for the first time. “I’ve heard a lot about you, you know. Everyone has. They’ll all be looking at you tonight.”

Erik tried very hard not to let it show on his face how much these words made his heart race. “Oh yeah? What has Charles told you?”

“Lots of things,” Raven whispered conspiratorially, then grinned. “We call you _Metal-Man_.”

Erik froze. He stared at Raven. “What did you just say?”

Raven raised her eyebrows. “Your mutation. Metal?”

“How do you know that?”

Raven laughed. “Well, Charles told me—told us. Don’t worry,” she added quickly. “You’re safe here. I’m a mutant too. They call me Mystique.”

Erik stared at her. “You’re a mutant? I didn’t know there were more of us.”

Raven grinned widely. “Of course there are. I know six at Harvard alone. And Charles says he’s sensed a few more, though he hasn’t spoken to them yet.”

Erik’s brain was close to bursting. How did he not know about all those other mutants? Why hadn’t Charles told him that they weren’t the only ones? Then he remembered that he and Charles hadn’t spoken for nearly three years, and that he, Erik, had been the one who’d basically ended their friendship. He tried hard to get himself together. There was so much he wanted to know. “What can you do?”

Raven blushed a little. “Watch.”

He did, and his mouth fell open, as something like a blue wave rolled over her skin, and then Charles stood in front of him, wearing the blue shirt and khaki pants that Erik had seen on him earlier. Erik opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn’t know what to say. What was happening?

“Cool, huh?” said Charles, in Charles’ voice, and with a look that was definitely Charles, whenever he was trying to prove a point. But then Charles suddenly began giggling in a way that was very unlike him.

Erik looked at him very closely. “It’s still you Raven, isn’t it?”

Another blue wave, and the blonde girl was back, grinning. “Yeah. I’m a shapeshifter.”

“Incredible,” said Erik in awe. He nodded at her. “Is this what you usually look like? I mean, how you were born?”

She blushed. “No. But it’s how everyone knows me. I don’t look very pretty in my normal form.”

Erik frowned. “Can you show me?”

She laughed nervously. “Better not. I don’t want to scare you.”

“You won’t.”

She hesitated for a moment, looking apprehensive, then the blue wave washed over her body again, and there she was. Her hair was bright red, her eyes yellow, but her _skin_...it was dark blue and covered in scales. She looked miserable all of a sudden, but Erik didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone—except Charles, always Charles—but definitely no girl, look more perfect. “Amazing,” he said, looking directly into her yellow eyes. “That’s an amazing mutation. You look great.”

Her blue face lit up a little and she smiled tentatively.

He smiled back at her. “Mystique, huh? That’s a cool name. But I don’t like Metal-Man much if I’m honest.”

She laughed. “Yeah, that was more of a joke anyway.”

“It doesn’t really fit anyway,” said Erik. “I think my mutation has more to do with magnetic fields than just metal. I’ve only found that out recently.”

Her eyes widened. “How cool! Magnetic fields, huh? You’re a basically a giant magnet then. How about... _Magneto!_ ”

Erik didn’t really think he needed a new name, but nodded anyway.

 

They were busy all afternoon, and Erik still hadn’t been able to properly talk to Charles by the time the first guests arrived.

Raven had been right in guessing that a lot of people would be interested in Erik. He probably hadn’t spoken to as many people in the last three years as he did during this one party. Surprisingly, most of them weren’t even too bad. They didn’t interrogate him terribly, just wanted to know who he was, and, when he told them, they all smiled, and said that they’d heard a lot about him. He forgot about most of them as soon as they walked away, though. He’d never found ordinary humans very interesting. Some of Charles’ friends, however, stuck in his head. Those were the ones that seemed to know about his mutation, and pulled him aside to ask him to demonstrate it, before they, in turn, showed him their special gift.

There was one girl who pulled him behind one of the doors, where, to his initial horror, she pulled her t-shirt over her head. His horror turned to fascination, however, when he spotted the large, insect-like wings on her shoulders. She grinned at the look on his face. “Welcome to the mutants’ club,” she said.

There was one guy who touched the drink in Erik’s hand, and it turned to ice, and another girl who walked straight through a wall and back without any effort. Erik had never seen so many extraordinary people in one day.

It turned out that Hank, the lanky guy with the glasses, was also a mutant, though he seemed too embarrassed to show his mutation to Erik. According to Raven, however, his feet were exceptionally cool. Besides being a mutant, Hank was also Charles’ roommate, and Erik was close to _seething_ with envy for that, when he remembered that Hank was Raven’s boyfriend. Probably not interested in Charles.

The later the night, the more people turned up. It looked as though Charles was friends with almost everyone at Harvard. He hardly had time to talk to anyone properly because there was always someone new to greet, and birthday wishes to accept. Erik always kept half an eye on his friend, hoping that at some point they’d be able to sit down together and finally catch up. But as the night wore on, it was clear Charles was also getting drunker. Around midnight he only stumbled around, hugging people from behind, and laughing goofily at stupid jokes.

Erik, too, found himself at the receiving end of one of Charles’ hugs at some point. Charles just threw his arms around him, rested his head on Erik’s shoulder and sighed. “God, Erik, I miss you. I really do.” He was slurring, but Erik had no trouble understanding what he was saying. His heart jumped at Charles’ words, though he knew it was probably just drunken babble. “You’re my best friend,” Charles went on. “You always were. And not speaking to you was the fucking worst—”

Someone tapped Charles on the shoulder and he let go of Erik, turned around, and broke into a loud cheer, greeting whoever it was that had just arrived. It was as though he’d immediately forgotten that Erik was there.

Erik slunk to one of the couches and sank into it. Well, what had he expected? He’d known that he was going to a party, and not a date. It shouldn’t exactly be a surprise that Charles didn’t have any time to spare. Tomorrow though. They’d have almost a whole day ahead of them, when it would be just Erik and Charles.

Raven turned up, blonde again. She threw herself onto the couch next to him and looked at him knowingly. But there was something in her gaze that made him sure that she, too, was at least a tiny bit drunk. She blinked. “Can I ask you something?”

Erik shrugged. “Fire away.”

“Charles mentioned that you used to let him into his mind all the time. He said you had mental conversations and that he picked up all your thoughts and everything.”

A heavy stone plummeted into Erik’s stomach. He swallowed. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Raven stared at him, amazed. “Weren’t you, like, weirded out by that? I love him, but I think his mind-reading is super creepy, like, terrifying even. I could never let him in like that. And nobody I know who knows about his mutation lets him use it on them either.”

Erik’s hands clenched. What the fucking hell? He really liked Raven. He thought her mutation was amazing, but what the fuck, she did not know what the fuck she was talking about. Charles’ mutation was the best, the most amazing thing in the whole world. Anybody who couldn’t appreciate that wasn’t worth his time. He suddenly didn’t want to be there anymore. He just wanted to go to bed, just go to sleep and wake up and spend the next day with Charles. Nobody else. He didn’t want to have to be around anybody anymore, anybody else who didn’t appreciate what an amazing person Charles was.

Like himself. Erik clenched his fists harder. Not even he allowed Charles to read his mind. Not anymore. He was a fucking hypocrite but _fuck_ , it wasn’t because he was afraid of what Charles could _do_ , not with his telepathy. But if he knew what Erik felt—Charles, the only person in the world who could hurt him, in a way no one ever could—

“Excuse me,” he said, not looking at Raven, and got up. As quickly as he could, he walked over to where Charles was, laughing with a group of girls, and tapped him on the shoulder. “Charles?”

Charles almost fell over as he turned around. “Erik! Do you want a drink? I can get you a drink.”

“No, no. I don’t—actually, I’m really tired. You said you’d show me where I can sleep.”

Charles blinked. Apparently it took him a moment to process what Erik was saying. “Already? Okay…” He took a step toward the door, swaying slightly. “Come on.” And he stumbled drunkenly out of the room without looking at the girls again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts written and added by [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight):
> 
> 'He didn’t exactly feel indifferent towards Charles now, and still thought about him all the goddamn time.'
> 
> 'Not anymore. He was a fucking hypocrite but _fuck_ , it wasn’t because he was afraid of what Charles could do, not with his telepathy. But if he knew what Erik felt—Charles, the only person in the world who could hurt him, in a way no one ever could—'


	21. 4.4 Apprenticeship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) is the most amazing beta and she also wrote a small passage for this chapter! (see notes at the end)

_ Chapter 4.4 _

**Apprenticeship**

7 June 2003

 

They went to get Erik’s bag, and Charles insisted on carrying it, even when he swayed slightly when he picked it up. Out in the cool summer night, they headed toward a group of buildings a few hundred yards away. That surely had to be where Charles’ dorm was.

At the party Charles had been talking non-stop, but now he didn’t say a word. He was frowning slightly, seemingly absorbed in thought. But maybe he was just too drunk to remember that Erik was there.

Charles unlocked the door to an old brick building, and they climbed—well, Charles stumbled—up two flights of stairs until they reached a long, narrow corridor with wooden doors on both sides.

Charles and Hank’s room was quite small. They walked past a narrow door, probably the  bathroom, and two wardrobes facing two single beds. Two desks on either side of the room took up almost all the space. The gap between the two beds was hardly more than a yard.

Charles sat down on the left bed and pointed to the one on the right. “All yours.”

Erik gave him a small smile and set his bag down on Hank’s bed. He wasn’t sure what to do now. He just wanted to get changed and go straight to sleep, but Charles just sat there, looking at him sort of expectantly. And Erik didn’t think it would be a great idea to take off his clothes in front of the friend he’d been in love with for the last ten years. In order to give Charles the opportunity to leave and get back to his party, Erik turned his back on him and took out his T-shirt and boxer briefs for the night. As he did so, two other things tumbled out of his bag onto the bed.

“Oh, I completely forgot. I’ve got some things for you.” He turned around again to hand Charles the envelope and the small package. “The letter’s from my mom. The present’s from me.” He was twenty-one, why the fuck did he still have to blush like he was twelve?

Charles looked surprised, but very pleased. “Oh—thank you Erik. You didn’t have to get me anything.” He opened the letter first and took out the card. His smile widened as his eyes traveled further down. “That’s so sweet of her. And the cake! Tell her thank you from me, will you?”

Erik wasn’t sure whether he was imagining it, but Charles seemed a little less boozed now that they’d left the party. He certainly had less trouble focusing his eyes on Erik, and his speech was maybe a little less slurred. Hadn’t Charles once said that being around a lot of drunk people and their intoxicated minds affected him too? Well, he certainly wasn’t sober now, and Erik had seen him down more than a few beers back at the party, but at least he seemed to be properly aware of what was going on around him.

Charles tore Erik’s present open and gasped. “Oh my god, Erik, that’s…” He gently took the little folded chessboard in the form of a box out of its wrapping and opened it. He gasped again. “Erik! They’re amazing. Did you make them yourself?” He lifted one of the tiny chess pieces to the light to examine it more closely.

Erik cleared his throat, where, once more, a large lump had settled. “I…they’re not that detailed because I didn’t have much time, but, well…I thought maybe you could use it for long journeys. The pieces and the board are magnetic, so they stay in place and don’t—”

The words died in Erik’s throat as Charles threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly. It was the third time since Erik’s arrival that Charles hugged him, but something about this hug was different.

Charles’ face was buried into Erik’s chest. Erik dropped his head a little so that his nose just touched Charles’ hair. Beneath the smell of cigarette smoke and booze, was what had always just been so quintessentially  _ Charles. _ Erik ached, feeling of all things, like he’d been homesick and only now was coming home. For a moment, Erik hesitated. Then he brought his arms around Charles too. He thought he heard Charles sigh softly, but it might just be his imagination going crazy. They just stood there, unmoving. The hug was long...maybe far too long for just two friends.

Erik didn’t dare move. He was afraid that, if he did, Charles would move away, and they’d be distant once more. He was very aware of Charles’ hands around his waist, his own on Charles’ back, every single point where their bodies touched. They hadn’t been this close to each other for so long. Not even back in high school. Not since Charles had stopped sleeping in Erik’s bed. Erik had probably not been this close to anyone at all since then. Sure, he’d had partners, but they’d been meaningless. _This_ , this wasn’t meaningless. It meant the world.

Erik shivered, goosebumps breaking out  all over his body. Not moving got harder by the second, when the overwhelming desire was to tilt up Charles’ chin and kiss him, pull him even closer, and never let go. But he couldn’t risk it. It felt as though everything would be over if this hug ended. So he kept still, trying to keep his breathing calm, and not let Charles notice his shaking hands.

Slowly, very slowly, Erik could feel Charles’ hand trail down his lower back until it almost reached his tail bone. He couldn’t suppress a shiver and gasp then. But Charles must have realized what was going on anyway. He wasn’t stupid. Or he would definitely realize it in a second, because Erik could tell by the throbbing feeling in his crotch that his cock was growing.

Charles sighed again quietly. His hands grasped the back of Erik’s shirt very tightly. Erik noticed that Charles’ breathing too, was shaky. Charles pulled Erik even closer to himself, touching chest-to-hips-to-thighs. Erik’s hardening cock brushed against Charles’ groin through their clothes. An almost painful spike of arousal shot through Erik’s spine and into his brain. He wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes off of Charles, place kisses all over his torso, and finally  _ see _ and  _ feel _ him completely. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of Charles’ body that he hadn’t seen in years, but that he’d dreamed about. 

Charles had frozen in his arms. His breathing had quickened, and the hands that were still grasping the back of Erik’s shirt were shaking slightly. Charles lifted his head from Erik’s chest without moving his body away from him to look up into Erik’s face. His eyes were dark, his lips slightly parted. Erik could hear his shaking breaths.

Erik couldn’t stop himself. His brain wasn’t even functioning properly anymore. It was all a mindless chant of  _ ‘Charles, Charles, Charles’ _ in his mind, as he pressed his lips to Charles’, and a gasp escaped them.

The tension broke at once. Charles’ hands were suddenly in Erik’s hair as _Charles_ _kissed him back_. Erik had no idea what he was doing. Their teeth clashed together more than once, and he could still taste the beer in Charles’ mouth, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, but that they were as close to each other as possible. Erik pulled Charles even closer without stopping to kiss him as if his life depended on it. And it really felt as though it did.

It wasn’t enough though. Erik needed Charles closer, even closer than they were now. He needed to feel Charles, feel him _ everywhere. _ He desperately needed their bare chests to touch, to feel that Charles’ heart was beating just as hard and fast as his own. But to unbutton their shirts they’d have to break apart first, which was not an option. Unable to see what he was doing - because he couldn’t stop kissing Charles, not ever - he tore at the hem of Charles’ shirt and yanked it out of his pants. He could tell that Charles was doing the same to his t-shirt and they pushed them both upwards. Their stomachs touched. Erik could feel the trail of hair underneath Charles’ navel rubbing against his lower abdomen. The idea of where this trail led made him go almost crazy with lust.

He took a step closer toward Charles, but there wasn’t really any room anymore, and the sudden movement made Charles stumble and topple backwards onto his bed, pulling Erik on top of him.

Their kiss broke and Erik found his face a few inches above Charles’. He’d never seen his friend like this. His eyes were so dark, Erik could hardly see the blue in them anymore, and his lips were redder than Erik had ever seen them. His mouth was still slightly open, and Erik saw his gaze wander towards Erik’s crumpled t-shirt.

“Fuck,” Charles breathed. He pushed himself into a sitting position and yanked Erik’s t-shirt upwards, forcing it off of him, then grabbed Erik’s neck and pulled him back toward him to continue kissing him. Erik fumbled with the buttons on Charles’ shirt. He needed it off. Now. He needed to see the pale and freckly skin, and  _ touch _ it. Never stop touching it.

Charles came to his aid. Without breaking their kiss again, they managed to get Charles’ shirt off. As soon as his chest was naked, Charles let himself sink backwards onto the bed again, pulling Erik with him by his neck.

Erik was on top of Charles. His heart really was beating just as hard as Erik’s, and Charles definitely had an erection as well. Erik’s pulse quickened even more as he felt it poke into his stomach through Charles’ pants. Charles moaned into his mouth. Erik couldn’t think straight. His hand was all over Charles while he continued to kiss him hungrily, desperately. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he undid both their belts with his power and pulled them away, without even touching them. Then he let the button on his jeans and Charles’ pants pop open.

Charles gave a breathless laugh into Erik’s mouth, and began kissing him even more fervidly, which Erik wouldn’t have thought possible a moment before. This could never stop. Never. This was everything. Everything Erik needed and wanted. He moved his hips, and they both gasped at the friction.

Erik needed more of this. They both needed more. But their pants were still in the way. Hell, they both even still had their shoes on. There was nothing Erik wanted to do less in this moment, but he disentangled himself from Charles and sat up, panting loudly. He yanked his own shoes and socks off and threw them behind him, then Charles’, before he pulled off his own pants and then, finally, pulled down Charles’ pants and boxers in one go.

There he was. Completely naked. Pale and freckly, as Erik had always seen him in his dreams, and his cock flushed and up, bouncing slightly as Charles panted and shivered.

He didn’t have long to enjoy the sight before him, however, as Charles pulled him back down to kiss him again. And now they were truly touching everywhere. Every inch, where their bodies met, they were skin on skin, and Erik heard Charles moan loudly as their cocks slid against each other. They both moved, desperate for a little more friction, gasping at every touch.

Erik wished he had ten more hands. He needed one to hold himself up, so he had only one hand left to touch every bit of Charles’ body he could reach. He didn’t want to waste this moment, when Charles was there before him, stretched, bare, and starving for Erik’s touch. Erik let his free hand roam hungrily over Charles’ chest, arms, stomach, then down his side, slipping slightly underneath his body to cup his ass and squeeze it slightly.

Charles gasped. Within moments his hands had moved downwards from Erik’s neck and shoulder to his ass too. He began to move him back and forth, making their cocks slide against the crease of each other’s groin. The light friction sent spark after spark up Erik’s spine, but it wasn’t enough. He moved his hand from Charles’ ass to grab hold of both their cocks, holding them tightly together.

Charles gasped again, louder. He pulled Erik’s ass tighter against him, thrusting faster and harder.

Erik could hardly breathe. He stopped kissing Charles, burying his head in the shorter man’s shoulder instead, sloppily kissing, maybe even biting Charles’ collarbone, while gasping and moaning loudly.

His mind was filled with noises from his own and Charles’ mouth, those delicious gasps and moans from Charles, with the feeling of his own hand on his cock, of Charles’ cock against his, Charles’ hands on his ass, Charles’ skin beneath his lips.

He couldn’t think anymore. The pleasure mounted as Charles began to move him even faster, his movements becoming erratic, and their cocks slid against each other more quickly.

This was it. This was all he wanted and needed. The best feeling in the world, with Charles.  _ With Charles. _

Erik came with a cry louder than any before. He was flying high, just stopping himself from tumbling on top of Charles, who kept going for a few moments longer before he keened, squeezing Erik’s ass even more tightly.

Charles held on to Erik’s ass for a few moments longer before reluctantly letting go. Erik finally allowed his arm to relax, coming to rest on top of Charles. They were both still panting, Charles’ heart furiously beating against Erik’s.

They were both sticky with semen, but Erik didn’t feel like moving. He could smell Charles’ woody shampoo, mixed with the smell of sweat and sex, feel Charles’ pulse on his nose, buried as it was in Charles’ neck. He wished he could just submerge himself in Charles’ smell, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his warm body, the steady drum of his heart. Erik was in a warm, fuzzy bubble, drowsy and sated and so _ content, _ where nothing but Charles existed. His muscles relaxed, his breathing deepened, and he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight):
> 
> 'Beneath the smell of cigarette smoke and booze, was what had always just been so quintessentially _Charles._ Erik ached, feeling of all things, like he’d been homesick and only now was coming home.'


	22. 4.5 Apprenticeship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, my wonderful beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight)!

_ Chapter 4.5 _

**Apprenticeship**

8 June 2003

 

When Erik woke again, it was still dark outside. He had trouble remembering where he was and why for a moment, but then it hit him. He froze.

His face was still buried in Charles’ neck, his nose in Charles’ hair. Very carefully Erik propped himself up on his hands, one on either side of Charles’ face. Charles didn’t move. He was breathing very deeply, his eyes closed. Erik had never seen anyone look so peaceful and beautiful. He shifted his legs slightly trying to get up. His and Charles’ stomachs stuck together, but Erik still managed to sit up without waking his friend. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Erik moved off the bed.

He looked back at Charles. He lay there on the bed, on his back, completely naked, pale and freckly, and totally relaxed. He’d get cold now that Erik wasn’t there to warm him anymore, but he lay on top of his blanket, and Erik didn’t dare wake him up. After a moment's hesitation Erik grabbed a blanket from Hank’s bed and carefully covered Charles’ body with it.

Then he just stood there, naked, in the tiny space between Charles’ and Hank’s bed, unsure what to do.

What had even happened earlier? Well, he knew  _ what _ had happened, but  _ how? _ It had been amazing. The most intense sex Erik had ever experienced. But  _ how? _ Charles was straight. Erik was pretty sure of that. Unlike Erik, Charles had had several girlfriends in school. He’d definitely been attracted to them. But Charles had never, not once, shown even the slightest bit of interest in another boy, let alone Erik. They were friends. Or they had been until that horrible party when Erik had shouted at Charles.

Erik swallowed. He was a fucking idiot. Charles was drunk. He’d downed several cans of beer at his party. He’d hardly been able to walk in a straight line, or talk without slurring his words. Hell, he’d hugged everyone he could reach earlier. He even tried to kiss several people. Erik knew what Charles was like when he was drunk. At every damn party back in high school he’d disappeared to make out with some girl. Drinking just made him horny.

And Erik had taken advantage of that. Of course he had. He’d dreamed of this with Charles for years. He’d never had any other fantasy that got him going like this. But he hadn’t been thinking. It hadn’t crossed his mind once, while it was happening, while they’d been kissing and tearing off each other’s clothes, that maybe Charles was only doing it because he was so terribly drunk and unable to understand what was happening. Maybe Charles hadn’t even realized that it was Erik he was kissing. He’d been drunk, possibly horny all the while. And then  _ someone _ had just happened to kiss him and touch him, and Charles hadn’t really cared who it was at all.

Erik’s hands were shaking, and not only from cold. He couldn’t stay. What if Charles woke up and Erik was still here. He’d realize what had happened. He’d probably be horrified, maybe even disgusted by what they’d done.

There was no other way. Erik would have to leave quickly, before Charles woke up. People might even come and knock on his door soon to see where he’d gone. Charles was missing from his own birthday party. That couldn’t possibly go unnoticed.

Erik looked hastily around for his clothes. His boxers, pants and socks were on Charles’ desk, among with Charles’ pants. His shoes and t-shirt were on the floor. He snatched them all up and put them on as quick as he could without making much noise, then grabbed his bag. He looked at Charles one last time, trying to memorize exactly what he looked like lying there, the first and last time Erik would ever see him like this, before he turned around and slipped out of the room.

The streets were deserted and silent as Erik reached his car where he’d parked it earlier. The clock read 2:38 am. If nobody came to look for him, it might be ages before Charles woke. And once he did, what would he think had happened? Would he remember?

Erik drove off without really paying attention to what he was doing. He didn’t need to. His mutation took care of that. But his thoughts were still on Charles, and what they had done. Whenever he remembered details, the sound of Charles’ moan, the feeling of Charles’ cock against his cock, in his hand, Erik felt a twitch in his crotch. He’d be recalling details of this for a long time, he knew it. Even though the memory made him feel both hot with arousal and shame. What the fuck had he been thinking? He’d wanted to be Charles’ friend again, not scare him away for all eternity. And he’d definitely not planned to take advantage of his friend being drunk, like some fucking predator.

Erik groaned. Why hadn’t he been able to control himself? Was he that weak-willed? Thinking only with his cock? He’d probably destroyed any chance of ever being Charles’ friend again. And not only that. He’d surely be torturing himself with the memory of this night over and over again for the next years. And just when he’d begun to get over Charles.

Erik didn’t take the detour to his mother’s house. She didn’t expect him before the next weekend, and he didn’t feel like talking to anyone anyway, especially not his mother who’d surely question him at length about why he was back so early and what had happened at the party. He’d have to face her eventually, but at least he’d have a few days to prepare himself.

Erik arrived at Mr. Brown’s shop a little after 6 am. There were already people on the street. Most looking sleepy and slightly disheveled, apparently on their way home, doing the walk of shame. Erik, for once, felt very much like one of them.

His mind, though exhausted, was still racing on about what had happened and what he was supposed to do now. One part of him never wanted to have to face Charles again, too afraid of seeing disappointment or even disgust in his friend’s eyes. Simultaneously though, the idea of never seeing Charles again made his chest constrict painfully. How could he just give up on Charles if there was even the tiniest hope that they’d be alright? Maybe, if he called Charles, and they just talked it out...

Erik dropped onto his bed, still fully dressed, burying his face into his pillow. He could just wait and see what Charles did next. But Charles still only had his mother’s address. Erik would have to do something. Apologize. But what if Charles didn’t even remember what had happened, and thought he’d had sex with some girl in his room? Erik punched his pillow in frustration. Why did he always have to fuck up every opportunity he got to be Charles’ friend?


	23. 4.6 Apprenticeship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) is the best!

_ Chapter 4.6 _

**Apprenticeship**

June - July 2003

 

Erik hadn’t been able come up with a plan on how to tell his mother about the disaster on Charles’ birthday yet, when Mr. Brown waved him into the shop on Thursday, grumbling that he had a phone call.

Frowning, Erik put down the golden brooch he’d been working on and went to wash his hands. Who would call him on a Thursday morning? His mother was the only one who ever called him, but she knew exactly what time he finished work and never called earlier. Erik’s heart plummeted for a moment, as the idea hit him that it might be Charles who’d asked his mother for Erik’s number. But that would be weird. Would Charles really call in the morning? He’d be in class, wouldn’t he?

Erik picked up the phone.

“Yes?”

_ "Is this Erik Lehnsherr?” _ The female voice had a light Hispanic accent and was vaguely familiar.  _ “This is Mrs. Hernandez, Erik.” _

His mother’s neighbor. Erik’s heart began to race. “What’s wrong?”

_ "I just wanted to tell you that your mother is in hospital.” _

No. Impossible. “What happened?”

_ "I don’t really know, darling. She was in very terrible pain last night, so I called her an ambulance. I’m really sorry, but I think you should go and see her.” _

Pain? His mother? Erik could hardly think straight. “Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Hernandez.”

He hung up after she told him which hospital his  _ mamá _ had been brought to. His heart was racing, beating so hard he could hardly breathe. But he needed to keep a clear head. He needed to get going.

He turned around to look for Mr. Brown, but his master was already standing in the door leading to the workshop, watching him, his brow furrowed. “Go,” he said. 

Erik just nodded gratefully, and dashed off into his room, where he packed his bag fast as he could. Within minutes he was on the road, trying to shut down every worrying thought in order to concentrate and get to the hospital more quickly.

He was relieved when he was told that he could see his mother straightaway, and went to hug her tightly as soon as he spotted her in her hospital bed.

“Mom, what happened?” he asked, as he’d let go of her and sat down on the chair next to her bed.

She shrugged, smiling. “I wasn’t feeling great, so Mrs. Hernandez thought I should go to the hospital.”

“She said you were in pain. What kind of pain? How are you now?”

“I’m really good,” she said, still smiling. “They gave me something to help with the pain. And it’s not the first time I’ve had a stomach ache. I’ve had that a lot lately.”

Erik looked around. “What did they say? Did you speak to a doctor?”

“Oh yes.” She nodded. “They took pictures of the inside of my stomach.”

Erik looked at her intently. “And what did they say?”

She looked down at her hands for a moment, then back at him again. “They’re not sure yet,  _ mein Schatz. _ They need to do a biopsy first, and then—”

“A biopsy?” he interrupted her, panic ringing in his voice. This rang a terrible bell. “Why? What did they see?”

She smiled again. “Well, there is something in there that’s not supposed to be there, but it might be nothing. We’ll just have to wait and see, love.”

 

It wasn’t nothing. That much became clear when the results came back a few days later. It was bad, very bad. Of course it was. Erik had known it from the moment he’d heard the word ‘biopsy.’ Her losing weight and looking sickly, it all made sense now. The same thing had happened to his grandmother. He should have realized what it meant. If he’d sent her to see a doctor when he’d first noticed it, it might have been early enough to do something about it. This was all his fault. He’d been too immersed in thinking about Charles and his upcoming birthday party to notice, to react. He should have seen this earlier. Why did he always have to fuck up everything?

He raged and shouted, when she told him what the doctors had said to her. He didn’t even care about the scandalized, scared and pitying looks the other patients and their relatives threw him. He couldn’t bear to hear the word ‘pancreatic cancer’ and have her tell him that it was too late to do anything about it. He couldn’t accept that it was too big, and it had spread everywhere already.  _ That there was nothing they could do. _ How could it be  _ possible _ that there was nothing they could do for her? How could they just let her die and do nothing about it? 

His mother just sat there, waiting for his rage to subside, watching with a sad smile as he screamed and punched the wall furiously. And once he’d stopped shouting, breaking down shaking with sobs, she pulled him into her lap, hiding them both behind the curtain around her bed, and stroked his hair as though he was still a little boy, and he let her do it, holding on to her tightly, afraid to let go.

He didn’t go back to work, but stayed in his mother’s apartment, visiting the hospital every day. He didn’t care about anything else anymore. He only left her side at night, when he drove back to her apartment to sleep, or rather, lie on the couch in the living room and stare at the ceiling. He hardly slept, and when he did, he dreamed terrible things. He only showered whenever his mother told him to because he smelled bad. And he only ate because Mrs. Hernandez came over uninvited to cook him dinner every evening, pity in her eyes.

Most days he just sat on the chair next to his mother’s bed, watching television with her, sometimes talking, sometimes playing board games, sometimes reading the paper to her, all the while trying to ignore that she seemed to be getting thinner and paler every day, while her voice got progressively weaker.

It wasn’t until two weeks after her hospitalization, that his mother brought up the subject of Charles.

“You haven’t told me about your trip to Cambridge, mein Schatz.”

Erik looked up from the copy of the New York Times in his hand. He frowned. He hadn’t forgotten about it. Of course not. But it didn’t seem half as important right now as it had seemed only two weeks earlier. He folded the newspaper and put it down onto her blanket. “Yeah, I know,” he said with a sigh.

She raised her eyebrows. “Well, tell me about it now.”

Erik shrugged. “It didn’t go great.”

She creased her eyebrows sympathetically. “Did you boys fight?”

He sighed again. “Not really. I...well, we just, sort of...” He didn’t know how much he wanted her to know. He definitely didn’t want to tell her that they’d had sex. He hadn’t even told her that he was gay yet. Not that it mattered. He’d never have a real relationship anyway. He didn’t want one.

Before he’d come up with a way of telling her without disclosing too much, she spoke again. “Did you tell him then?”

Erik looked at her, confused. “Tell him what?”

She sighed exasperatedly. “Oh, Erik. That you love him, of course.”

He just stared at her. He couldn’t quite believe his ears.

She gave a tiny little laugh. “Do you think I’m dumb, Erik?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Well then, how can you assume I didn’t notice? I’ve watched you around him for more than seven years. And after that I’ve watched you mope for another three years. I’ve seen the way you look at him. Believe me, I know.”

Erik hesitated for a moment. He swallowed. “And you’re not...upset?”

She shook her head incredulously. “Upset? Why would I be upset? I know Charles, and I love him very much. The only thing I’m upset about is the two of you not speaking to each other for so long. And now again. What happened in Cambridge, Liebling?”

“I...well, I did something stupid. And then I ran away.” He found it easier to look at his hands than at her. But he knew exactly the kind of face she would be making anyway.

They didn’t speak for a while. As Erik looked up, he saw that her eyes were closed. They opened again, however, as she heard him shift in his seat. She stretched out her hand, and he took it.

“I’m worried for you, my boy,” she said quietly. “I’m worried of what will become of you once I’m gone.”

“I’m not a boy anymore, mom,” said Erik, attempting to smile. “Don’t worry. I can look after myself.”

She shook her head impatiently. There was a tear visible in her eye. Erik swallowed. He didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t seen her cry since the day that his father had died.

“I’m not talking about looking after yourself, Erik,” she said. Her voice was shaking slightly but there was also a note of annoyance in it. “I don’t want you to be alone. You need people around you. People who love you.”

“Nobody loves me,” Erik replied at once. The next moment he wanted to hit himself. What a stupid thing to say to his dying mother.

“That’s not true,” she said, shaking her head more vigorously than he’d thought possible in her condition. “You know it’s not true. But you need to be brave. Don’t let all the good things slip away. Don’t let  _ him _ slip away.”

Erik didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. But he didn’t answer. He couldn’t. There was a large lump in his throat that made speaking completely impossible. It hit him now, suddenly, that she was actually, truly, going to leave him. She wouldn’t be there anymore. He wouldn’t see her, or talk to her. He wouldn’t drive back to Westchester during the weekend. It would be just him and Mr. Brown in their little shop in Brooklyn.

Erik swallowed, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat, but it wouldn’t go away. How could she possibly leave him? She’d always been there. That was the one thing that he’d always been able to rely on. Her being there.

Instead of speaking, he squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back faintly.

“Promise me one thing, Liebling,” she said quietly. “Promise me that you’ll talk to him. Promise me you’ll try. Please.”

Erik still didn’t say anything. He found it hard to look at her, but he fucking tried. How much longer would he have the chance to? But he couldn’t promise her this. He couldn’t talk to Charles. He didn’t think he had the strength to do anything these days, apart from sit with her, and keep her company. While he still could. He didn’t need more grief, worry, or any sort of confrontation in his life. He was just so tired. So terribly tired.

Erik could feel his mother’s thumb softly caressing the back of his hand. He closed his eyes and let his heavy head sink onto her pillow next to hers. Through all the odor of disinfectants and detergents, he could still discern her own scent. The one that had comforted him as a child, when she’d pulled him close to her chest. He swallowed again. What on earth was he going to do without her?


	24. 4.7 Apprenticeship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) who added another sentence to this chapter (see notes at the end)!

_Chapter 4.7_

**Apprenticeship**

August – October 2003

 

Edie Lehnsherr died on a Saturday morning in early August. The sun shone bright and it was stiflingly hot, as she drifted away peacefully. It didn’t come as a shock to Erik when it happened. She hadn’t had the strength to speak for days, hadn’t eaten much for over a week. Nevertheless, he felt empty, as though a part of himself had just disappeared, when her last breath escaped her. When her heart stopped beating. But he didn’t cry. He hadn’t shed a tear since the day they found out about her diagnosis. There didn’t seem to be any room in him for tears. Or sadness. Everything was just dull, and empty.

A lot needed to be organized once she was gone, but Erik had neither any idea how, nor any strength to do it. Luckily Mrs. Hernandez stepped in to help, when she saw that Erik was gone with grief.

She accompanied him to see the rabbi, who remembered Erik from his younger days, but politely didn’t mention his complete absence from the synagogue since then. Mrs. Hernandez then gently dragged Erik to pick out a casket, even helped him compose an obituary for the local paper.

Erik was surprised by the large number of people who turned up for her funeral. Some of them he knew, mostly their neighbors, but most he’d never seen before in his life. All of them seemed deeply saddened by her death though, and many stopped to tell him stories about his mother that he’d never heard before. And they cried. So many of them cried, while Erik just stared blankly at them, ashamed of his own lack of tears at his mother’s death.

He’d had no idea what a...large life she’d had besides just being his mother. He felt bad that he’d never before considered this. There was so much he hadn’t asked her. They’d only ever discussed Erik and his future, or his worries. This had seemed completely natural and normal then, but now he felt terribly selfish for never showing any interest in her life in return.

It also occurred to him only now that he’d never told her about his mutation either. It had become so natural to him to constantly use it, but in a way that nobody would notice, he hadn’t even considered that he might not have anything to fear from telling her. They’d been so close. She’d always been there for him. She’d always loved him, no matter what stupid things he’d done again. Yet he’d never shared with her the two most important aspects of his life. His mutation, and his feelings for Charles. Though of course she’d worked the latter out on her own.

He’d always kept things to himself. Or at least, he had since he’d forbidden Charles to read his mind. It would be easiest to just keep going this way. It had worked for him all these years, hadn’t it?

Erik terminated his mother’s tenancy agreement shortly after the funeral, and spent several days looking through her things, deciding on what to keep and what to sell. He didn’t really have any space, so he limited himself to a few pieces of her jewelry, a box of photographs of her, Erik, and his father, her handwritten book of cooking recipes, the scarf that she used to wear all the time, and the teddy bear that used to belong to Erik and which she’d kept next to her pillow after he’d grown out of it. It pained him to see the rest of her belongings go, some to friends and neighbors, others sold, others thrown away, but he knew he couldn’t possibly keep them. And he had her most important stuff, everything that really reminded him of her.

Erik went back to work as soon as everything was settled. There was absolutely no point in staying in Westchester anymore. Dwelling on things, or people, that were gone was never a good idea. His life so far had been nothing but a lesson in that. And anyway, he’d have to get back to work to finally get his trade certification. He owed it to her to make something of what was left of his life.

 

Erik officially finished his training in early October, and the Sunday after he’d received his trade certificate, Mr. Brown waved him into his apartment behind the workshop and ordered him to sit down at his kitchen table. Erik looked around curiously. He’d never been inside Mr. Brown’s apartment before.

It was as sparsely furnished as his own quarters. The door from the workshop led straight into the kitchen, which seemed almost completely empty apart from a simple wooden table, two chairs, and a couple of cardboard boxes. Two additional doors were situated at the opposite site of the room. Erik suspected that they led to a bedroom and bathroom, but they were both closed.

Mr. Brown took his seat opposite Erik, and looked at him grimly through his bushy white eyebrows. Erik wasn’t too concerned by this. It was rare that Mr. Brown didn’t look grim or grumpy.

“You got your certification?” he grumbled.

“Yes,” said Erik simply.

“You enjoy working here?”

“Yeah, I do.” replied Erik. It hit him that his apprenticeship was over now, and that they hadn’t even discussed whether Mr. Brown would still employ him afterwards. If things went badly, he might end up alone and jobless on the street today.

“I’m retiring,” said Mr. Brown gruffly. “Today.”

Erik raised his eyebrows. He’d certainly not expected that. “What?”

“Got myself a little home in sunny California, and have enough savings to get myself comfortably through my remaining years.”

Erik didn’t know what to say.

“You want this shop?  The business? It’s yours.”

Erik stared at him. “ _What?_ ”

Mr. Brown shrugged. “Don’t have any family. No heir. Nothing. Don’t want it anymore. Want a quiet life now. You want it?”

“I...Are you sure?”

“Of course. You’re doing a good job. Feels safe to leave it with you.” Mr. Brown shot him one of his rare smiles. Another thing Erik had not expected waking up today. “You want it or not?”

“Y...yeah, of course.”

Erik watched bemusedly as Mr. Brown took a small stack of papers from the kitchen counter behind him and handed them to Erik. “Sign these and it’s yours.”

Erik flicked through the contract quickly. He couldn’t find the part where it said—“What do you want for it?”

Mr. Brown made a funny noise, somewhere between a sigh and an annoyed grunt. “Nothing. Told you. Got enough savings. No reason for me to have more money than I need. No heir. No point.” He waved his hand around the room. “All yours. If you sign.”

Erik stared at him again. This was absurd. “The apartment too?”

“Sure. What am I supposed to do with it? I’ve already packed.” Mr. Brown waved vaguely toward the cardboard boxes. “Sign, and I’m off.”

 

It was all happening a little too fast. Erik helped his old master carry the boxes to a small truck outside, and, still not having completely comprehended what had happened, waved him goodbye as Mr. Brown left in a taxi for the airport.

It was weird to see the old man go. They’d never exactly been close. They hadn’t even been in the same room at the same time a lot. But he’d been a constant during those last three years. Grumpy and taciturn, but always there. It was strange how empty the shop and workshop felt now that he was gone.

It took Erik only two trips up to the attic to get all of his belongings and carry them into the apartment. _His_ apartment. Which turned out to be larger than expected. One of the two doors from the kitchen indeed led to a bedroom as Erik had expected. It was still furnished with a simple but large wooden bed and a wardrobe, and it had an adjacent bathroom. This meant the other door from the kitchen led into a roomy living room, in which Mr. Brown had left his couch and a large cupboard.

The walls were completely bare, and the kitchen cabinets empty. Erik would definitely need to get a lot of things soon to feel properly at home. For a moment he felt a pang of regret as he remembered selling most of his mother’s stuff. It would have come in useful now. Well, it wasn’t as though anybody would come and see where he lived. He’d probably turn into a younger version of Mr. Brown soon enough. No family. No friends. Nothing but his work to keep him going.

Erik sighed and sank onto his new bed, smoothing his hands over the new linen. It was starting to get dark outside. He’d closed the shop about two hours earlier, and then prepared himself a frozen pizza in his new oven. He definitely needed to buy himself some kitchen utensils now that he had a kitchen, so he at least could cook properly. He didn’t even really know how to cook. Another thing to do with his spare time alone.

Erik suddenly recalled that he’d thought about calling Charles, and apologizing to him, after that disaster at his birthday party. He’d totally pushed that to the back of his mind over everything that had happened. His mother’s illness. Her death. Her funeral. All the hard work he’d put in the last month to get his trade certification. He’d completely shut it out, and it didn’t look as though Charles had tried to contact him either. At least not while Erik had still lived in his mother’s apartment.

He stared at the ceiling, watching it slowly turn darker and darker. He didn’t feel like switching on the light. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself anyway. He was shivering slightly, but he didn’t get up and turn on the heater. He didn’t bother to get changed either, or make himself comfortable underneath his blanket. He didn’t move at all.

He could still call Charles, and explain everything to him. But what would happen then? He’d made a mistake and possibly hurt Charles. He’d fucked up enough. Did he really want to make things worse? Now that he was starting to get settled? Or was that just him kidding himself because he was too much of a coward to face his old friend? After all, it didn’t look as though Charles was still interested in speaking to him. And what would it change anyway? Charles was in Cambridge. He’d probably start working on his PhD soon. While Erik was in New York. He’d still be alone, never mind the meaningless sex and his customers. None of them really counted. He needed their money and their orders to keep his business going, and sometimes their bodies to fulfill his needs and distract himself, but that was it. It didn’t count. He was definitely alone now.

Erik drifted off into a fitful sleep after a while, still fully dressed, his old teddy bear, still smelling of his mother’s apartment, resting next to him on his bed. He sighed deeply in his sleep, and his hands clasped his blanket tightly as his dreams began to circle around the two people he’d loved more than anything. The two people that he’d lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was Part Four! I hope you enjoyed it (and didn't suffer too much). Get ready for Part Five - the last one.  
> Once again, I don't know when I'll be able to start uploading it - it might be really soon, it might even be tomorrow, or it might take a while.
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------  
> Written by [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight):
> 
> 'He owed it to her to make something of what was left of his life.'


	25. 5.1 Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back already, all thanks to my wonderful beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), who worked so hard to make this possible.
> 
> It's almost nine years later and the boys are thirty years old, and not really boys anymore.
> 
> My beta wrote a few nice parts again for this chapter which I don't want to deny you (see notes at the end).

**_PART FIVE_ **

 

_ Chapter 5.1 _

**Work**

16 July 2012

 

“Beautiful and exquisite as always, Mr. Lehnsherr. A real piece of art.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Howard.”

“Truly astonishing. The amount of detail. You really are an artist.” The blonde middle-aged woman let the delicate white gold necklace glide through her fingers, then held it up again, examining the stone more closely. “This will be perfect for the gala dinner. Everyone will want to know where I got it. You won’t mind me referring them to you, will you dear?”

Erik smiled politely. “Of course not. That would very nice of you, Mrs. Howard.”

She tittered, coy and insincere. “Although it would be a shame if you got so busy that you didn’t have time for my orders anymore.”

“I doubt that could happen, Mrs. Howard.”

She patted his hand with another little laugh. “Of course not. Well, thank you very much for this exquisite piece of jewelry. How much would that be again?”

She paid and then left with a silly little wave, still simpering. The doorbell chimed as she closed the door behind her.

Erik sighed. He loved his work, but he couldn’t say that he enjoyed interacting with his customers  much. Most of them, like Mrs. Howard, were rich and snobbish ladies, their stones and furs the only genuine things about them. But they paid well, and visited his shop regularly, often with special requests. He’d acquired a good base of rich patrons, which made his life much easier. It payed to be nice to them, even though he didn’t like them much.

Erik went back into the workshop to sit down at his workbench. Even though it was July, it was nice and cool inside, as almost everything was made of stone and there were no windows. These days Erik was especially glad that he didn’t need to keep the forge on anymore, in case anyone checked up on what he was doing. Nobody ever came in here, not since Mr. Brown had left all those years ago.

About three years earlier, Erik had received a letter telling him that his old master had died peacefully in his house in California, and left everything he owned to Erik. Of course, the shop and the adjacent apartment had already been Erik’s, but now he apparently also owned a house in California. Though he’d never set foot in it, and hadn’t yet bothered to sell it because he really didn’t need the money. His business was doing extremely well. He was still gaining customers, and since his mutation allowed him to work much faster than any other jeweler and didn’t have anything to do besides work, he had no trouble fulfilling every single wish his customers had in little time. It was good. Life was treating him kindly these days.

He had a few pending orders waiting to be dealt with. Matching wedding rings. Gold. Different sizes. The female one with a small diamond, both rings with each other’s names engraved on the inside. Easy. That would barely take him half an hour.

He didn’t even have to get up from his seat to get all he needed. With a wave of his hand the lock on his safe clicked open, and with another flick he’d floated the correct amount of gold alloys over to him, together with the metal case containing the diamonds. He picked out the little diamond the customer had chosen for her ring during their last consultation, then locked the case back in the safe without looking.

Forming a simple ring in the right size was an easy task at this point. Erik didn’t even have to look at what he was doing, reading up instead on the new offerings from his suppliers while lazily molding the gold in mid-air, letting his mutation do the rest. Fitting the stone required just a little more attention, and the hardest and most delicate part was definitely the engraving. This time he had to focus on what he was doing in order to not mess up any lines or spirals, or cut too deep into the gold. Sure, he could just smooth the metal down and redo any mistakes, but then again, he never claimed not to be a perfectionist.

Erik had just finished the first ring and picked up the second when the doorbell chimed again. “Just a second!” 

He put the rings down on his workbench and made for the shop, feeling out for any jewelry on the new customer to see whether he knew them. He could sense a silver watch that definitely wasn’t his, and another small, roughly and inexpertly formed chain, made of an ignoble metal that wasn’t usually used for jewelry. 

Erik froze, his mouth falling open. No. It couldn’t be. He stretched out his senses once more, stroking gently over the bracelet (he could feel that now, definitely a bracelet), familiarizing himself with its form and material again. But how could that particular bracelet be here? The first piece he’d ever made, long before he’d even thought about becoming a jeweller. If that bracelet was here, it had to mean that  _ he _ was here too. That Charles was here. That he was wearing the bracelet  (for the first time since—since Erik had pushed Charles away,  _ Gott, _ it hadn’t even been there that night they fucked) that Erik had made for him all those years ago.

Time froze with him and for a moment...Erik felt like running away. Into his apartment, locked door and his heart behind him. 

He didn’t think he could do this, talk to Charles, or even face him. This was the closest they’d ever been in over nine years. They hadn’t written to each other, hadn’t called. Nothing. What was Charles even doing here? Did he know he was in Erik’s shop? Had he maybe just made a mistake and would be just as  _ stunned _ to see him? Was he looking for an engagement ring? Wedding rings? An expensive gift for his no doubt classy girl? Erik’s stomach twisted violently at the thought. Christ. What the fuck was Charles doing in Brooklyn?

“Hello?” Charles’ voice sounded loudly through the shop. He had to be standing right at the counter, only a few feet away from the door.

Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened the door to the shop and stepped through it.

Charles was indeed standing on the other side of the counter. He smiled slightly as he spotted Erik. So he had expected to meet him here. That was something. At least it wouldn’t be too awkward then. Charles looked great. Older than the last time that Erik had seen him, but that suited him well. He’d definitely lost some of the boyish charm of his younger days, but he looked more defined, more masculine, even though his blue eyes and red lips still softened his appearance. There was the tiniest streak of gray in his hair. Erik felt a flutter in his stomach that he hadn’t experienced in years, his heart began beating like it used to.  _ Charles. _ Standing in front of him.

Erik realized that he was staring, for how long he didn’t know. He pulled himself together. “Hi. Charles. It’s...it’s really good to see you.”

Charles smiled. “And you,” he said. “How are you?”

“I’m…fine. Thanks. How are you?” Erik almost added ‘You look great,’ but stopped himself at the last moment.

“I’m great, actually. I’m really good,” said Charles, still smiling. He looked around the room. “Your own shop. That’s amazing, Erik.”

“Thanks,” said Erik. He could feel the heat creep up his neck. Why did he have to get embarrassed now? He never got embarrassed. “I’ve had it for a while actually. My old master left it to me. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

Charles’ eyes widened. “What? Oh no, no, I’m not here to buy anything. Not that I don’t—your jewelry is beautiful. But I don’t really have anyone to buy jewelry for at the moment, to be honest. I came here to see you, actually.”

Erik’s heart really shouldn’t leap like that at those words. He tried to pull himself together again. “How did you know where to find me?”

Charles laughed. “I know a few people in Westchester—not well, but I know them—who  are apparently quite  _ big _ fans of your jewelry. Mostly my mother’s old friends. But they swore to me that you’re the best jeweler out there. And I would never argue with that. Anyway,” he added with a small smile. “I didn’t think there could be any other jewelers called Lehnsherr in Brooklyn, so I asked for your address.”

Erik swallowed. “Are you back in Westchester then?” He was surprised by this. He knew that Charles had hated his family’s home, and he’d definitely gotten the impression that Charles had liked living in Cambridge.

Charles shook his head emphatically, and gave a little and rather bitter laugh. “Oh, hell no. I live in Manhattan now actually. Not even that far from here. I only moved there last week though.”

“Really? How come?”

Charles smiled brightly. “I got a teaching and research position at Columbia. It sounded great, and I’m really looking forward to it. I’m starting next month.”

“So you’re staying in New York City?” Why did he have to sound so eager?

“Yeah, hopefully for good. Listen,” Charles added, looking a little worried. “I really don’t want to keep you from working. I just wanted to ask you whether you wanted to get a coffee some time—or something cold; it’s summer, what the hell—you know...to catch up. If you want,” he added nervously.

Erik’s heart leaped again, and the flutter in his stomach became more pronounced. “Yeah. Of course. That would be great. When?”

Charles looked definitely relieved. “Oh good. I don’t know. I’m completely free right now, so whenever you have time is good for me.”

“Sunday then? Sunday afternoon?”

“Yeah, great.” How could a smile light up the whole shop like that? “Shall I just meet you here, maybe around 4? Then maybe we could have a walk and get something to drink on the way.”

“Perfect.”

“Okay.” Charles took a deep breath, then smiled again. “See you on Sunday then.”

“Yes, definitely.”

The doorbell chimed once more, as Charles left the shop. He waved back at Erik as he did so, leaving him somewhere between elation and panic at what was going to happen next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight):
> 
> 'their stones and furs the only genuine things about them.'
> 
> 'Sure, he could just smooth the metal down and redo any mistakes, but then again, he never claimed not to be a perfectionist.'
> 
> '(for the first time since—since Erik had pushed Charles away, _Gott_ , it hadn’t even been there that night they fucked)'


	26. 5.2 Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my wonderful friend and beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), who wrote and added a few more small parts to this chapter (check the notes at the end please).

_ Chapter 5.2 _

**Work**

July 2012

 

Erik spent the whole week thinking about his...whatever it was...with Charles. He kept going through all his clothes, uncertain what he should wear. He had one rather tight pair of jeans that made his ass look truly spectacular, but he usually only wore those whenever he went out to a club or bar to find someone he could spend the night with. It somehow felt wrong to put them on for a walk with Charles. Charles might think that Erik was trying to seduce him, and that might ruin every chance he’d ever get at them becoming friends again. But all Erik’s other pants were either the sweatpants he usually wore at home, or the really worn-out jeans he wore at work. Both of which would make him look rather shabby, as though he hadn’t made much of an effort. He didn’t want to look as though he was trying to seduce his old friend, but he didn’t want to look as though he didn’t care, either.

In the end he decided to go shopping on Saturday after he’d closed his shop in the afternoon, to find a pair of jeans that looked good on him, but not necessarily too sexy. Well-fitting, but not tight. He told himself that he needed new jeans anyway, and that he definitely wasn’t doing this solely for Charles. Definitely not.

It wasn’t a good idea to get too hopeful about meeting Charles anyway. Maybe they’d just meet once, catch up, and that was it. Maybe Charles wasn’t really trying to get his old friend back, even though Erik couldn’t help hoping that he was. But Erik also couldn’t forget that Charles had said that there was nobody he could buy jewelry for at the moment. Maybe that meant that he didn’t have anyone to spend his time with. That could be a chance for them to become closer again.

Another thing that kept intruding Erik’s thoughts about the possible rekindling of their friendship was the memory of  _ that _ night. But this had been the reason why their attempt at a friendship had failed last time they’d met. And besides, it was still true that Charles had been very drunk, and that Erik had never before that night noticed even the slightest clue that Charles wasn’t 100% straight. Yes, Erik was older now, experienced enough that way to doubt his initial reaction after what happened, his assumption that Charles must have been too drunk to realize that he was in bed with a man, or that he couldn’t want to sleep with a man in the first place. But this didn’t necessarily mean that Charles had wanted to have sex with  _ Erik. _ He’d been terribly drunk that night after all. It didn’t mean that Charles liked Erik in that way. If he did, wouldn’t he have bothered to find out where Erik had gone? Anyway, all of that happened almost nine years ago, Erik doubted very much that it would still mean anything.

He shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He’d only spoken to Charles for all of two minutes and here he was, already back to wondering, hoping, dreaming. Charles just wanted to catch up. That was something that friends did. And if Charles wanted to be friends with him again, Erik was more than up for it. It would make a nice change to spend time with someone he actually liked. He’d just have to get his hopes and ideas under control, in order to keep himself from doing anything stupid, and to keep himself sane.

But that was easier said than done. By the time Sunday came, Erik had beaten off three nights in a row to images of Charles in his head, and still he felt a familiar twitch in his cock as he saw Charles walking toward him in front of his shop, just...beautiful, in nicely fitting jeans and a light-blue t-shirt that very much underlined his gorgeous freckled-spattered arms. He’d never seen Charles in jeans before, and only very rarely wearing a t-shirt. Charles usually wore khaki pants and dress shirts. He looked like home. Like this was something they did every day.

Charles’ smile was wide and bright. “Erik. You look great.”

There it was again. That familiar flutter in Erik’s stomach. “Thanks. You too.” So what if they were complimenting each other on their looks? That was what friends did, wasn’t it?

Charles gestured vaguely down the street. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Erik suggested they go to Prospect Park, which wasn’t far away and he knew well because he liked to go there for his morning walks whenever he managed to get up early enough. Charles agreed right away, and so they ambled through the sunlit streets toward the park, chatting animatedly about Charles’ research and Erik’s projects. 

It was easy to talk to Charles. Like nothing had changed and not at all like talking to anybody else. What Charles told Erik about his work sounded fascinating. He was learning so much about mutations, as secret as it was from the public and the scientific community. Charles seemed equally interested in Erik’s work. Erik’s heart leaped as Charles expressed once more how beautiful he thought Erik’s creations were and how perfectly he thought his job fit him. Then Charles talked a little about the classes he taught, and Erik smiled at the way Charles’ whole face lit up as he spoke about his students and how much they’d learned. It was pretty clear that Charles, too, loved his work a lot. 

“And then Columbia offered me this amazing position, and I couldn’t possibly say no. I get my own lab and everything. Plus, I get to come and live here. And...I get to see you again.”

They fell silent. Erik’s ears were slightly hot. He found it easier not to look at Charles, to stare at his own feet instead. Had he understood Charles correctly? Had Erik really been part of the reason why Charles had come to New York? And how could he have known, back when he took the job, that Erik still lived in New York? 

Erik cleared his throat. “When did you find out about my shop?”

“Oh, that was about...three months ago?” said Charles. “I didn’t have the time to come here before my move, unfortunately. I was very busy in Cambridge. There was a lot to do before I left.”

“But didn’t you say that a friend of your mother’s told you about it?” asked Erik, frowning.

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Charles. He sighed. “Yeah, I had to go to Westchester then, because my mother died and everything needed sorting out. It was actually at her funeral that I learned about your shop here.”

He said all that without a trace of sadness. Erik didn’t really know what to say. He knew that Charles and his mother hadn’t been close, but it had been his mother nevertheless. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Oh, don’t be,” said Charles, with a lightness Erik could tell was fake. “To be honest, I was surprised she lived that long. She’d never not been drunk in the last 15 years. She hasn’t been here for a while, not for a long time. It doesn’t make that much of a difference to tell you the truth.” He sighed again. “But, anyway, there was a lot to sort out and that’s why I had to come to Westchester. And then I had to kick Kurt and Cain out of the house, and that was just awful and exhausting. And when I came back to Cambridge, I got the job offer and had to start packing up there, so I really didn’t have time to come here earlier. I’m sorry.”

Erik just shook his head, smiling slightly. “So your stepfather and brother are gone? Where?”

“To a small town in Utah. I got them a house there.”

Erik frowned. “Why Utah?”

Charles shrugged. “Because it’s far away.”

Erik laughed. It was astonishing how much satisfaction he got out of the fact that Charles had finally gotten the better of his abusive stepbrother. One thing still bugged him, however. “But you bought them a house? Why didn’t you just kick them out and leave them to take care of themselves?”

“Well,” said Charles, looking thoughtful. “They were really relying on my mother’s money, you know. If I’d just kicked them out they’d have been completely broke and homeless.”

“Wasn’t your stepfather married to your mother? He’d have inherited part of her money, wouldn’t he?”

“He would,” said Charles with a little laugh. “But my mother secretly changed her will about a year before she died, making sure he didn’t get anything. I can tell you, he was furious.”

“I can imagine,” Erik chuckled. “Did you know?”

Charles shook his head. “No. I hadn’t spoken to my mother in years when she died. I was really surprised. And kind of…touched, to tell you the truth.”

They fell silent again for a while, both immersed in thought. Erik had never met Charles’ mother, but he’d never liked her much nonetheless. From the way nobody had ever seemed to take any interest in where Charles was, what he was doing, and whether he was staying over at Erik’s apartment or not, Erik had concluded that she’d never much cared about her son. And he’d been unable to respect anyone who knew Charles and didn’t love him. Now it turned out that she had cared after all, though Erik wasn’t sure that this new information could change his view on her. She should have been there all along. She should have shown interest in what Charles was doing. She should have been proud to have a son like Charles, and she should have made him feel loved. She should’ve made sure Charles never knew what it was like to get beaten up by someone who was supposed to be family.

“Where does Edie live now?”

Erik turned to look at his friend again.

Charles was earnest and curious, no trace of anything else. He didn’t know. “I came to see her before I went to the mansion. You know, after my mother died. But there was a different name on the nameplate. Did she move?”

It was a long moment before he could say anything. “She died,” he croaked. “Almost nine years ago. Cancer.”

Charles fell behind. When Erik turned to look at him, he could see he had gone pale. Charles looked at the ground and swallowed. “I had...no idea. I—god, Erik. Shit, I’m so—fuck.” Erik’s heart broke when the tears fell as Charles looked up again. “She was more of a mother to me than my own ever was. She’s—she’s...gone? Oh god, Erik. Fuck, I’m so sorry. That’s—” He stopped, visibly trying to tamp down tears. But then he frowned slightly. “Nine years ago? After—after my birthday? Or...before?”

“After.” Erik was ashamed now. There was no way Charles could have known. And because he’d been afraid, Charles never had.

“You should have told me.  I should have been there...to say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry.” One more thing he’d fucked up.

They walked in silence for a while, Erik’s mind casting around hopelessly for something to say, the easy conversation gone from before. 

After a few minutes they reached an ice-cream stand, where Charles bought two iced coffees. He began talking about his studies again while they walked around the park and the conversation slowly eased once more, drifting eventually to all the different kinds of mutations that Charles had encountered in college. It was a fascinating and broad subject, even if the gut-wrench of Edie’s death still hung around them, carrying them all the way through the park and back to Erik’s shop. They hugged when they got back, for the first time in nine years, as they said their goodbyes and arranged to meet again the following Sunday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight):
> 
> 'She should’ve made sure Charles never knew what it was like to get beaten up by someone who was supposed to be family.'
> 
> 'Erik was ashamed now. There was no way Charles could have known. And because he’d been afraid, Charles never had.'
> 
> 'One more thing he’d fucked up.'
> 
> 'even if the gut-wrench of Edie’s death still hung around them'


	27. 5.3 Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one today. I hope you still enjoy it!
> 
> [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) is amazing!

_ Chapter 5.3 _

**Work**

July - September 2012

 

It became a regular thing, Charles picking Erik up at his shop on Sunday at 4pm. Whenever the weather was nice, which was mostly the case, they strolled down the streets toward Prospect Park. On the one occasion that it rained, they made for a small café not far away.

Erik would begin looking forward to their next meeting the moment that Charles disappeared around the corner of the street every week. He loved his work, but now he found himself wishing it was Sunday constantly.

Whenever Charles appeared, knocking on the glass door of Erik’s shop and smiling, it felt a bit like coming home to Erik, even though it was really Charles who was coming to him. He hadn’t before been aware of how much he’d missed having someone to talk to, but with Charles it was so easy. They talked about anything that came to their minds. Erik talked a lot about his work, making Charles laugh as he described his customers to him and imitated the way they talked and simpered. Charles went into even more detail about his research and the people who’d worked with him, most of which were mutants with truly fascinating abilities. Two weeks after their first trip to the park, Charles started his new job, and now had endless stories about his new colleagues and what he was working on, and thinking about doing next. It was fascinating to watch his brilliant mind forming ideas and coming to conclusions right in front of Erik’s eyes.

It was interesting how they could now even discuss the kind of subjects that, back when they’d both been teenagers, had always led to fights between them. Erik had probably lost a lot of his hotheadedness during the long time he’d spent alone, slowly killing every bit of emotion he’d left inside him, but maybe Charles had changed too. Erik still disagreed with Charles a lot of the time, but he no longer felt as provoked by Charles’ optimistic approach to humans. If he thought back to the time they’d been still in school, he remembered perceiving his human classmates as a threat to his and Charles’ friendship, as though they were trying to steal Charles away from Erik. That had probably been partly the reason why he’d hated them so much. Though he was still convinced that neither of them would have accepted Charles as one of them had they known about his telepathy.

That was mainly where they still differed. Erik thought Charles was naive to believe that there could ever come a time, when mutants could openly talk about their mutations without fear of persecution and abuse. The humans would realize at once that mutantkind was superior to them, and that would fill them with fear, which would inevitably turn to hatred. There was absolutely no way that humans would accept mutants among them. But even though Erik strongly disagreed with Charles’ optimistic views, he nevertheless was able to relate to his strong desire not to have to hide anymore, but be himself.

He remembered what Raven had said to him at Charles’ birthday party. None of the mutants at Harvard had allowed Charles to use his mutation on them. It didn’t seem fair that among themselves they all could show off proudly what they could do, but Charles still remained an outsider in a way. A freak. Then Erik reminded himself that he, too, had shut Charles out of his head and still hadn’t invited him back in, while he himself used his mutation every day, had even made a living out of it. It made him feel like a terrible hypocrite again.

The seventh time that Charles picked Erik up on Sunday, it rained heavily once again, and they made their way straight to the cozy café only two corners away. The place was crowded, but they still managed to get a table near the large windows overlooking the street outside. It had definitely gotten colder the last week. Summer was slowly retreating, making way for fall, and the weather knew it too. They were lucky that Charles had brought an umbrella with him because otherwise they’d have both been soaked through to the bone. In that case they’d have had to go to Erik’s place to change and maybe take a hot shower each. For a moment an image of what that might have led to crossed Erik’s mind, but he brushed it aside quickly. He’d have to get rid of these thoughts. They weren’t helpful. At all.

Charles was a little quieter than he normally was. He seemed distracted, and kept looking out of the window, seemingly only half-listening to what Erik was telling him, and losing the thread whenever he was speaking. After a while this got Erik quite worried. “Are you okay? Charles?”

Charles glanced at him. He looked slightly confused. “What? Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s nothing. I’m just thinking about something.”

Erik took a sip of his coffee. “What is it? Did something happen at work?”

“No, nothing like that.” Charles shook his head. “It’s just...my lawyer called. Apparently he’s missing all sorts of documents. Nothing interesting. Tax stuff and employment contracts and so on. Stuff to do with the estate. But apparently they’re all really important. Well, I don’t have any of these documents, so they have to be in the house in Westchester still.”

Erik frowned. He didn’t quite see the problem. “So?”

Charles picked up his teaspoon and began stirring his coffee. Erik could spot a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “I don’t really want to go there,” he said quietly. “I’m not…I don’t like it. It scares me a bit.”

“Why?” asked Erik, surprised. “You’ve been there recently, haven’t you? And you’ve been fine.”

“Yeah.” Charles grimaced. “That was different though. The house was full of people. Everyone was busy, and so was I. Now it’s completely empty.” He sighed. “I know I sound like a bloody coward, but you don’t know what it’s like.”

Erik hesitated for a moment. But why not? They were friends after all, weren’t they? And friends helped each other out. “I could come with you if that helped. I wouldn’t mind. Is it urgent? I could close my shop early tomorrow. It wouldn’t matter.”

Charles’ eyes widened. “You would? Seriously? No, it’s not that urgent. We could just go next Sunday. Would you really? That would be amazing, Erik!” He exhaled forcefully, a relieved smile on his lips, and took a rather large gulp of coffee that burned his tongue.


	28. 5.4 Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm eternally grateful for [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) and everything she's done for me!
> 
> She also added another sentence to this chapter!

_ Chapter 5.4 _

**Work**

9 September 2012

 

Erik was intrigued by the prospect of finally seeing Charles’ childhood home for the first time. He knew that Charles had never liked living there much. He’d spent every possible minute at Erik’s place, though that had probably been partly because of his asshole of a stepbrother. Charles’ house had remained a mystery all through Erik’s childhood. He’d only ever seen the gates and a little beyond that. The garden around it must be more of a park. Erik had never seen even a glimpse of the house itself. Erik couldn’t help but be a little excited. It was as though he’d always missed this certain piece of the puzzle that was Charles, and was now about to finally discover it.

They agreed to meet earlier this time, because Charles had no idea how long it would take him to find all the documents his lawyer needed and it would take them three hours to get there and back. Charles arrived at Erik’s shop at 11am, and knocked on the glass door as usual. They’d agreed to use Erik’s car since Charles, to Erik’s astonishment, still didn’t have a driver’s license. He’d told Erik that he’d only just started taking lessons after his mother’s death, when he’d had to sign off almost all of his mother’s staff, including her chauffeur, because he didn’t really have any use for them anymore, with Manhattan public transportation being how it was.

As they drove first through the city, then a while through the countryside, Charles didn’t speak much. He seemed very tense, and kept staring out of the window. Erik could tell that he was still nervous and apprehensive about what was coming.

“Are you alright?” he asked as the GPS said they had only a few more minutes to go.

Charles turned his head and smiled at him, though it looked a little forced. “Yeah, sure. Don’t worry.”

“Do you want to stay in the car? I could go and look for the documents,” said Erik uncertainly.

Charles laughed. “No, you couldn’t. You’d get completely lost. But thanks for the offer. That’s really thoughtful of you.” He sighed. “It’ll be fine. There’s nothing to fear, really. I just kind of hoped that I wouldn't have to set foot in this place again so soon. Or ever.”

When they reached the gate, Charles jumped out of the car to type a code into the electronic lock. The gate opened automatically, and they drove inside.

It really was like a park. There were trees everywhere and large lawns, and they had to drive through what seemed like a small forest before the house even came in sight. When it did, Erik almost crashed the car against a large willow.

It wasn’t a house so much as a castle. Built of graying stone with long windows, it looked as though out of a movie set in medieval times. Erik could hardly believe that only four people had lived in this place, and only three within the last years, nevermind the staff. It looked as though you could easily fit an entire hospital into it, and still have a lot of space. He could see now that one would need a lot of staff to keep a place this large in order. He also understood why Charles had not dismissed the groundskeepers. Without any care, the whole place would probably become overgrown within a few weeks.

Erik wouldn’t have thought it possible, but  the place inside seemed even larger. They first went through a huge hall with ceilings so high that two normal apartments would have easily fit into it stacked on top of each other. It was quite dark even though it had been bright outside, and the large chandelier in the center barely illuminated the hall, instead casting an eerie yellowish light on its wood-paneled walls and dark leather furniture. It looked exactly the way Erik imagined a posh British manor would look. Noble and expensive, but very impersonal. He shivered slightly, and wasn’t sure whether that was due to the cold or the general atmosphere of the place.

Charles took Erik by his arm and pulled him out of the hall into a long and dark corridor, the walls of which were also wood-paneled and the floor covered with a dark-green carpet that almost completely swallowed the sound of their footsteps. Erik started to feel more and more out of place, as though this wasn’t a real house but something out of a bad dream. He could see now why Charles had preferred to spend his time at Erik’s apartment rather than here. Erik and his mother hadn’t had much, certainly not any of the luxury that surrounded them in this house, but at least they’d had a home. This didn’t feel like a home at all.

Charles led Erik into a few very similar rooms, all equipped with leather furniture, wood-paneled walls and expensive-looking paintings. In each room he rummaged in the drawers of the dark wooden cabinets or desks, pulling out different folders or sheets of paper. He looked through them with a frown and put some of them back, tucking the rest under his arm, before he nodded at Erik to follow him somewhere else.

After about an hour of wandering from one part of the house into another, and after having retrieved a ton of documents from different cabinets and desks, Charles sighed and sunk down onto a leather couch, depositing a stack of papers next to him. “I think that’s it,” he said. “Well, at least I’ve looked in all the possible places. And to me it looks like I’ve got everything.” He rubbed his eyes. “Let’s get out of here. This place is starting to suffocate me.”

Erik hesitated for a moment, then sat down gingerly next to Charles. The couch was cold and rather firm. It very much felt as though all the furniture in the house was made for looking good, but not for actually using it. He turned to look at his friend. “Charles?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you mind…can I see your room?” It had been on his mind all the time while they’d wandered through the mansion. If this place looked so completely impersonal, would at least Charles’ bedroom bear marks of his personality?

Charles looked surprised and a little apprehensive. “If you want, sure,” he said slowly. “I haven’t been inside that room for about ten years though. I don’t even really remember what it looks like.”

Erik frowned. “But didn’t you stay here after your mother died to sort everything out? Where did you sleep?”

Charles smiled sadly. “I stayed at a hotel not far from here. There’s no way I’ll stay here another night. I should probably try and sell this place, but I don’t think I could...It’s my father’s ancestral home.” He sighed. “Anyway. Come on, I’ll show you my room.”

The mansion was so large that it took them five minutes to get to Charles’ room. They had to climb two flights of stairs and walk along several corridors. Erik fully appreciated now what Charles had meant when he’d said that Erik would get lost on his own. He was glad that Charles was with him. Without his friend, he’d probably have trouble even finding the exit again.

Even though the walls in Charles’ room were wood-paneled like everywhere else, and the furniture just as expensive, Erik was relieved to see that there were at least traces of Charles’ personality visible in it. There were no heavy paintings on the wall for one thing, but different kinds of posters. One Erik recognized as the decoding of the human genome, another was an anatomical depiction of the human body. There were several textbooks on the bookshelves, many with bookmarks still sticking out of them. Erik stepped closer to read the titles on the backs of their covers. He remembered Charles talking about a few of them back when they’d still been in school. He smiled as he imagined a teenage version of Charles lying on his stomach on the bed, flicking through them.

Erik turned away from the bookshelves and took a few steps toward Charles’ bed. There was a framed photo on his nightstand. Erik moved closer and picked it up to look at it curiously. His chest constricted painfully as he recognized the picture. Erik’s mother had taken it during the summer holidays when they’d been about twelve. They were both in their swimming trunks, their hair wet, arms around each other’s shoulders and grinning into the camera. Erik couldn’t believe how happy he looked. He could barely remember this time when he’d had everything he wanted and needed. This photo had been taken back in a day when Charles had still been reading his mind. They’d been so close then.

There was a large lump in Erik’s throat. He swallowed, but it wouldn’t go away. His hands began to shake slightly. He felt dizzy and lightheaded. His heart was beginning to pound more strongly by the second. He could feel it in his throat.

Everything he’d ever wanted and needed.

All those years and he was still trying to lie to himself, when nothing had changed. Nothing. It had always been Charles. Erik had never wanted anyone close but him. And not just as a friend. He had to stop telling himself that. He’d never  _ loved _ anyone like Charles. He’d tried to shut out all these feelings for over a fucking  _ decade, _ and now his heart could hardly take them all flooding back in. They almost knocked him to his knees, and he only remained upright because he was still aware of Charles in the room with him.

How could he have been so stupid? He should have told Charles. He should have told him back when they’d still been in school. When Magda had made Erik realize that he loved him. But he’d been too much of a coward. Too afraid to ruin their friendship. And then all his pent-up emotions had led to exactly that which he’d tried to avoid. It had ruined everything they’d had. And not just then. The next time, at Charles’ birthday party, Erik should have stayed. They should have talked about it. He should have been honest. Even if Charles had never felt the same way, they might have been able to save what they’d had. But Erik had just run away like the coward he was, and ruined every chance they might have had.

Was it too late now? After all those times that Erik had fucked up so badly, he wouldn’t blame Charles if he’d tell him to leave him alone. In the past, Erik had yelled at him, told him to stay away, then slept with him and fled. Had he truly ruined everything back then with his stupidity? Was there even any chance that there could be anything between them? But that was the kind of reasoning that had ruined everything in the first place. Wouldn’t it just be the best to be brave for once, be open about his feelings? Whatever happened then, wouldn’t it be worth it to  _ try? _ To at least get it all out of the way?

Erik took a deep breath. His hands shook badly, as he closed his eyes for a moment, and, plucking up all the courage that he had, turned around to face Charles. But whatever he was going to say to him died away instantly as he saw his friend’s face.

Charles hadn’t moved since they’d entered his old bedroom. He still stood beside the open door. He was staring blankly into the room, looking completely lost, as though he’d like nothing more than to vanish from this place. His hands were buried in the pockets of his pants, his teeth were clenched, and there was a single tear visible on his cheek.

Erik swallowed. He felt terrible all of a sudden. He was such an idiot. How could he have forgotten? This was not about him. This was about Charles and his childhood. And this was definitely not the time for confessions and deep feelings. Not when Charles seemed so miserable. Erik walked over to Charles, the picture frame still in his hand.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, placing his free arm around the shorter man. Even though he knew that Charles was miserable, he couldn’t help the leap of his own heart as Charles briefly buried his face in his shoulder, before he allowed Erik to lead him out of the room.

 

If it was possible, Charles seemed even more downcast on their drive back from the mansion than on their journey there. He kept staring blankly out of the window, not once speaking to Erik.

Erik’s initial pressing need to tell Charles about his feelings right away had faded somewhat, replaced by worry about his friend, who seemed to have completely forgotten that Erik was there at all. It felt wrong to just drive back home and let Charles deal with getting home on the subway on his own. Erik wasn’t even entirely sure whether Charles was in any state to be left alone right now. The trip to the mansion had clearly shaken him.

Erik reached over to the passenger seat to softly touch his knee. “Charles?”

Charles started slightly, then looked at him, confused. He looked like someone who’d just woken from a terrible dream. “Hmm?”

“I’m going to drive you home, alright? But I need you to give me directions. I don’t know where exactly you live.” Erik could just use the GPS, but he needed to keep Charles with him and out of the choking misery in his head.

Charles just nodded abstractedly. His lack of polite protest at the offer unnerved Erik a little. He was sure that normally Charles would have insisted on taking the subway.

Charles’ house wasn’t a house at all, one of those newer sleek glass-lined buildings between Midtown and Upper Manhattan. By the time they reached it, Charles had become himself again somewhat. Probably the need to pay attention to where they were going so he could give directions had helped at least a little, and though he was still rather quiet and looked tired, he seemed to have come back to the real world. He even managed a small smile when he thanked Erik for driving him all the way home, and invited him inside for something to drink. Erik accepted, glad of the opportunity to keep Charles company a little longer, and curious to see the place he called home now.

They took the elevator all the way up to the loft, and when its door opened, it lead straight into an open and modern apartment, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Erik briefly wondered how Charles could afford a place like this. And in New York City at that. It must have cost him a fortune. Then he remembered the mansion they’d just left and felt stupid. It was pretty clear that if there was one thing Charles didn’t have to worry about, it was money.

Erik looked around, while Charles wandered over into the kitchen, the brushed steel humming against Erik’s senses. 

The difference between this place and the mansion in Westchester was striking. There were windows all around. The view was spectacular, and was probably even better during the night with the city’s lights on all around. The floor was a very light parquet, which made the place look bright and welcoming. All the furniture that Charles had chosen was gray or white. Nothing was made of leather. The only similarity between Charles’ new apartment and his old bedroom were a few framed science posters on the wall, and a large bookshelf filled with textbooks, though the bookshelf, like everything else, was light and modern, as opposed to dark and ancient.

Erik had the impression that Charles had, inadvertently or not, created himself a home about as far removed from the one he grew up in as possible. It was nice though. Comfortable and homely, warm despite the cool metals. And the couch actually looked as though it was designed to sit on rather than just look fancy. He took a tentative seat, and was relieved to find that it was indeed soft and comfortable.

“So…tea or coffee?” asked Charles from the kitchen. “Or something else?” He opened a cupboard above the stove and picked out two large mugs. “I don’t have any alcohol though, but I guess you’re driving anyway, so…”

“Coffee, please,” said Erik. Something struck him as weird, though he wasn’t immediately sure what. 

“Cream or sugar?”

“Black, thanks.” Then it hit him. “You don’t drink anymore?”

Charles shook his head, busy with the coffee maker. “No. Not since…” He laughed humorlessly. “My 21st birthday actually.” 

“Why?” A ball of dread settled in Erik’s stomach. That was the night that he and Charles had had sex. And Charles had been terribly drunk. Which Erik had taken advantage of. He felt sick.

“Because in hindsight, bad things always happen when I drink.”

Erik closed his eyes, fists clenched on his thighs. He didn’t know what to say. He’d fucked up so badly that time.

Charles turned around to face him, leaning back against the kitchen counter, a pained and tired expression on his face. “I just completely forget the things that matter when I’m drunk. I behave like a complete idiot. And I fuck up everything that’s important. That night...I wanted to spend more time with you, but I just couldn’t get my shit together. It was all so fucked up. I invited you, and then I was too drunk to even be with you. And then later in my room, when we—I thought it would be okay, but then you were gone. It’s always the same. All those years—all the bad things...it’s just that every time I drank, I’ve fucked things up. I was just like my mother.”

Erik could hardly breathe. He didn’t know what to think. What to make of what he’d just heard. He just watched, heart beating furiously, wondering, hoping, as Charles took the second mug out of the coffee maker and turned it off.

Charles finally walked over to him, placing the two mugs on the coffee table and taking a seat next to him. He sighed. “And I’m sorry about today.”

Erik swallowed. “Why?”

“Just...bringing you along for this. It was wrong. It’s got nothing to do with you, and the way I behaved…sorry.” He rubbed his eyes.

Erik shook his head. He was still reeling from what he’d just heard and had trouble getting his mind around it, though he tried to pull himself together. “Don’t. It’s okay. I’m glad I could be there for you.”

“It’s just—” Charles swallowed. “I don’t know. I fucking hate that place.”

“I understand,” said Erik.

They fell silent again, both holding their cups up to their lips, taking the occasional sip. Erik’s heart was racing, though he tried hard not to let it show. He very much wanted to pull Charles into his arms and hold him tightly, make him forget all the misery. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It seemed like a step too soon. He didn’t want Charles to think that he was using his momentary weakness to get what he wanted.

As Erik made to leave about half an hour later, it was Charles who pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he said quietly into his ear. “Thanks for being there. For me.”

There was a part of Erik that very much wanted to blurt out ‘I love you’ and ‘always’ and pull Charles even closer to kiss him until he forgot all about the dark mansion in Westchester and the miseries of his childhood. But the other part of Erik, the one that wasn’t quite ready to do that yet, the one that was waiting for the right moment, made him only squeeze Charles’ shoulders back for a moment, then smile at him, as he stepped into the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight):
> 
> 'Charles’ house wasn’t a house at all, one of those newer sleek glass-lined buildings between Midtown and Upper Manhattan.'


	29. 5.5 Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight).

_ Chapter 5.5 _

**Work**

September - October 2012

 

Erik hadn’t expected to see Charles until Sunday, so he was surprised when he heard the familiar rap of knuckles against the glass door of his shop—nobody else ever knocked—right after he’d closed it on Tuesday evening.

“Hey,” said Charles a little breathlessly, after Erik had opened the door. “Fancy a walk?”

It happened again on Friday, and then the next Tuesday, and the Thursday after that. Soon, there were never more than two days without them going for a walk or a drink in the café around the corner. Erik found himself eagerly waiting for Charles to arrive every day after he’d locked the shop, and was extremely disappointed whenever he didn’t turn up. Those were the nights when he ended up in front of the television, lazily flicking through the channels, before he went to bed early in the hope of luring the following day into coming more quickly.

If Erik had lived for his work during those last years, he now definitely lived for after. He’d never before cared for his workday to end, but now he found himself constantly checking the time, wishing for 5pm to come faster. 

Even though he saw Charles almost every day now, he still hadn’t told him about his feelings for him. There were moments every now and again, when Erik felt brave enough, and reassured by something that Charles had said. But whenever that happened, the words just seemed to get stuck in his throat, and he had to quickly think of something to say in order to smooth over the awkward moment. He was a coward, he knew it, but the fear of being disappointed, that Charles seeking his company more and more often didn’t actually mean what he hoped it meant, that Charles just needed a friend, and nothing more, just made it impossible for him to say anything.

The weeks went by, and soon it was October. And still Erik hadn’t said anything. He didn’t really know what he was waiting for. He knew he needed to tell Charles sooner or later. Those feelings weren’t just going to go away. On the contrary, Erik found himself thinking about Charles constantly. No matter whether he was at work, lying in bed, cooking, or cleaning up, he kept wondering where Charles might be, what he was doing at the moment, and whether he was thinking of Erik as well.

And Erik couldn’t help pondering over what Charles had said back in his apartment.  _ “And then later in my room, when we—I thought it would be okay, but then you were gone.”  _ Erik desperately hoped that it meant what he thought it meant, what he  _ needed _ it to mean. That Charles was aware of what had happened between them at his birthday party all those years ago, that he hadn’t been too drunk.  _ That he had wanted it too. _ But, even if he had, what did this mean for them _ now? _ Was there even a chance—? 

Erik was constantly stuck between  giddy anticipation and anxiety. He analyzed every word Charles said, every movement he made, mulling it over in his head for days, trying to determine whether it might be a hint that Charles felt the same way about Erik as Erik felt about him.

There were those instances when Charles looked at him with a warm smile, hugged him a little tighter than usual, or said something, sometimes a compliment, sometimes a hint that he enjoyed spending time with Erik very much, that made Erik’s stomach backflip. Whenever something like this happened, Erik was energetic and in a good temper for days. Even talking to his customers seemed less wearisome then, and Mrs. Howard actually asked him whether he was seeing someone once, because he seemed so happy.

But there were also those times, though they were thankfully rare, when Charles seemed a little distracted or ill-humored. Or when he didn’t turn up even though Erik had counted on it (though, to be fair, Charles hadn’t promised him anything). Those instances left Erik depressed, unmotivated and touchy for the next day at least. He knew that Charles couldn’t always be happy and attentive, that there were other things in his life that might influence his behavior and mood, but he couldn’t help over-analyzing and worrying that it might have been due to something he’d said or done.

It was one late Friday afternoon, after a week of hope and good signs, and energetic optimism, that Charles appeared just before closing for the first time. Usually he’d just knocked and waited for Erik to come outside. He hadn’t actually been inside Erik’s shop since the very first time he’d come to see him. Now, however, Charles stepped inside, giving Erik a little wave and a warm smile, which almost took his breath away and made him lose his thread for a moment. Mrs. Wilson, a regular customer of Erik’s, gave him a questioning look, and he hurried to get back to showing her the different designs that he’d come up with for her gold necklace.

“Sorry,” said Charles, as Mrs. Wilson had left the shop and it was just Erik and him. “I didn’t mean to be early, but I was just quicker than usual.”

Erik shrugged. “It’s alright. I’m done for the day anyway. Just let me pack all this away, and we can get going.”

Charles wandered around the shop, while Erik stored everything safely away, then went into the workshop to wash his hands. He’d usually change into different clothes quickly before Charles arrived, but now he thought Charles might think it would be rude if he disappeared for a few minutes, so he stayed as he was. Those weren’t his worst jeans and shirt anyway. It would be fine.

When Erik reentered his shop, he spotted Charles peering curiously through the doorway that led to the staircase up to the room in the attic where Erik had once lived but which was now used as a kind of storeroom. Charles drew back at once as he heard Erik approaching, looking a little embarrassed, as though he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. “Erm…” He cleared his throat. “Is this where you live? Upstairs?”

“No,” said Erik, walking over to him and peering through the door as well. “That’s just a storeroom up there. The largest part of the second floor is not mine. The entrance to that is outside next to the shop. I don’t even know who lives there.”

“Right.” Charles looked surprised. “But where—?”

“Oh, I’ve got an apartment behind the workshop.” Erik pointed at the door he’d just come out of.

Charles looked intrigued. “Really? I had no idea this building was so large.”

“It’s quite roomy,” nodded Erik. “I could show you if you want. Why don’t you come for dinner tomorrow?”

The words were out before Erik had properly considered them. For a moment he felt hot with panic. Had he just asked Charles on a date? They’d never done dinner before.

Charles looked taken aback for a moment, but then his face broke into a wide smile. “Sure. I’d love that. What time?”

The cold and bleary October day seemed beautiful and warm all of a sudden.


	30. 5.6 Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My wonderful beta, [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight), asked me to highlight her talent for turning filth into poetry, so please check the notes at the end! ;)

_ Chapter 5.6 _

**Work**

6 October 2012

 

Erik should have invited Charles over for dinner on Sunday rather than on Saturday. He closed his shop on 1pm on Saturdays, but he’d still have to shop for food, clean up his apartment, cook, and get ready before Charles arrived at 6:30. Time would be short. He’d already done some tidying up the night before, but it still was far from being clean enough for welcoming a visitor, least of all someone whom Erik wanted to impress.

And, anyway, the setting needed to be right for his big moment. The scary and exciting one. The one that he’d been putting off for weeks and weeks. Well, no. For goddamn  _ years. _

This was it. This was the time. Erik had been wiggling out of confessing to Charles for too long by telling himself that the moment and setting needed to be special, and, in case his hopes were for naught, that there wouldn’t be other people around. Well, it couldn’t get much more special than this. Charles would be seeing Erik’s apartment for the first time, they’d have dinner together, which already felt kind of like a date, and they’d be alone. Tonight was the night. Definitely.

Erik had a lot of trouble concentrating at work in the morning. He made several mistakes and had to smooth them over more than once. He even forgot to place an order for new materials that was already overdue and mixed up the orders of two customers, leaving them confused and a little annoyed.

He was glad when it was finally 1 pm and he could pack up, lock his shop, and head for the store around the corner to get everything he needed for dinner.

Erik had hardly slept the night before, but flicked through his mother’s handwritten cookbook, trying to recall Charles’ reaction to each of the recipes. In the end he’d decided on her roasted lemon herb chicken with green beans and potato bread, which he knew Charles had loved just as much as he did. Moreover, it was quickly prepared, and then only had to bake in the oven for quite some time, during which Erik was able to shower and get ready.

Erik hesitated for a moment in front of his wardrobe, uncertain whether he should dare it, but then he plucked up his courage and grabbed the tight pair of jeans that he usually only ever wore for going out at night. He hadn’t worn them for over three months, but he was glad to find that they still made his ass look spectacular. Erik could only hope that Charles would appreciate that too, and not think that Erik was trying too hard. If he was turned down tonight, he’d surely feel ridiculous in those jeans.

The doorbell rang (which, thankfully, Erik had remembered showing Charles the evening before, because he certainly wouldn’t hear him knock) only moments before the chicken was done baking, and Erik hurried to open the door for Charles.

He looked amazing. Of course he did. Charles always looked fantastic, even when he was dressed like an old professor, but today Erik could only just stop himself from staring at him open-mouthed. The light blue dress shirt that Charles wore was very tight, not obscenely so, but in a way that it definitely highlighted his chest and shoulders. Erik had always loved Charles’ shoulders. Moreover, the blue of the shirt brought out the bright color of Charles’ eyes in a way that made Erik unable to look away. Or he would have been, hadn’t there been the matter of Charles’ jeans. They clung tightly to his thighs and ass, making Erik doubt once more whether wearing tight jeans himself might not have been a bad idea after all, because he could already feel them tighten painfully over his slowly growing cock.

He cleared his throat. “Charles. You look great.”

Charles smiled. It took Erik’s breath away. “Thanks. You look amazing too.”

Erik swallowed. His heart was already beating in his throat. How was he going to survive this evening? He’d definitely have to pull himself together. “Come in.” He waved vaguely in the direction of his apartment and Charles entered.

Charles looked curiously around the workshop as they crossed it, and smiled as they entered Erik’s kitchen. “I love your place,” he said after a moment.

Erik blushed. He was strongly reminded of the first time he’d brought Charles to his and his mother’s apartment when they’d been kids.

Charles peeked at the oven. “This smells amazing. Chicken?”

Erik nodded, glad of the reason to hide his face, while he checked on their food. “My mother’s recipe. Probably not quite as good though.”

Charles laughed. “Well, if it tastes as good as it smells, I’ll take it.”

It really wasn’t bad at all. Erik took quite a lot of pride in the cooking skills he’d acquired over the last nine years. He’d gone from being unable to boil an egg to being really quite competent in the kitchen. He wasn’t nearly as good as his mom yet, but in a few years he might well be. Charles definitely seemed to enjoy it at any rate. He told Erik several times that this was the best chicken he’d had in a long time, and made the most indecent noises while eating. Erik regretted his choice of jeans once again.

“Amazing,” said Charles again, after he’d cleared his plate for the second time. He leaned back in his seat. “Absolutely perfect. You can invite me to dinner again anytime.” He grinned.

Erik swallowed and tried to smile back. He’d been watching Charles eat for the last minutes, waiting for him to finish, and at the same time hoping against hope that he would never do so. Erik’s heart was racing and his hands were sweaty. This was the moment. If not now, when would he tell Charles? He’d have to do it now. He cleared his throat. “Charles. There’s, erm, something I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh yeah?” Charles looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

Erik opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Panic rose in his chest. What on earth was he going to say? He hadn’t even thought about this. ‘I’m in love with you’ didn’t in any way cover how he felt, and ‘I’ve loved you since we were kids’ sounded ridiculously cheesy.

Charles raised his eyebrows, looking almost a little worried.

Erik’s hands began to shake. Charles was waiting. There was no going back, but how was he going to do this? Words couldn’t possibly describe how he felt. This was much bigger than words. He only realized that now.

And then it hit him. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of it before. It was just so obvious. He swallowed again. As he spoke, his voice sounded croaky. “Read my mind, Charles.”

Charles stared at him. “What?”

“Read my mind. Please.” Erik swallowed again, but looked at Charles intently.

Charles took a shaking breath, his mouth slightly open. “Are you sure?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

Erik just nodded.

Charles gripped the edge of the tabletop very tightly, his eyes fixed on Erik’s face, his lips still slightly apart. He didn’t put his finger to his temple as Erik had expected. Maybe he didn’t need to do that anymore, just like Erik had learned to utilize his power much better over the years. 

Charles could probably easily read anyone’s mind without them noticing at all if he wanted, but now he made himself perceivable to Erik. It was a warm and comfortable feeling, as though Erik’s mind was softly caressed by a warm and tender hand.

Charles took another shaking breath, still looking at Erik intently.

Erik felt a soft and questioning nudge in his mind.  _ Go ahead,  _ he thought, trying his best not to startle Charles by thinking too loudly. And, trying to ignore the mingled panic and excitement inside him, Erik pushed all those thoughts, hopes and desires that hadn’t really left him for weeks to the front of his mind.

There was a single tear visible in Charles’ left eye, but a small smile played around his lips, as he nodded slightly.

Erik could feel Charles’ warm presence take up more and more space in his mind. He was glad that he didn’t have to say anything because he didn’t think he could anyway. Tears welled up inside him and his heart seemed determined to escape through his throat. He clenched his teeth in an effort to keep himself together. How could he have forgotten about this? It was like coming home after a long, long time. It was safety, warmth, nearness and light all at once. And it was Charles. Charles almost everywhere. Charles’ tender and warming presence in large parts of Erik’s mind.

Charles’ face became blurred before Erik’s eyes, which were filling with tears, as he couldn’t quite keep them in anymore. He’d seen enough, however, to tell that Charles’ eyes, too, had become watery. Almost blindly, Erik stretched out his hand and found Charles’ across the table. Hoping desperately that he was reading the signs correctly, he squeezed it tightly. And Charles squeezed back. Erik swallowed, hardly able to breathe. What had Charles seen in Erik’s mind? What did he know about Erik’s feelings now?

As though in answer to Erik’s question, Charles made a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh.  _ Oh, Erik. _

And before Erik could say anything back, Charles was there, next to him, carding shaking fingers through his hair and pressing his lips to Erik’s. It took Erik’s breath away completely for a moment, but then a gasp (or was it a laugh?) escaped his mouth, and his hands, too, found their way into Charles’ hair.

Erik could taste the salt of Charles’ tears as he kissed him back. Or were they his own? He couldn’t even tell which part of his mind was his own anymore. Charles was everywhere, and their connected minds were a tangle of dizzying happiness, excitement, affection, desire, and a thousand more feelings that Erik couldn’t make out. It didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was that Charles was there and that their minds were as close as they possibly could be. And that he kept kissing Charles, that he never stopped kissing Charles, because he needed it like the air to breathe.

They still weren’t close enough though. They might be one in their minds, but Charles’ body was far too far away. Erik needed to feel the warmth of Charles’ body against his own. He needed to feel the beating of Charles’ heart. He needed to feel Charles truly  _ everywhere. _

Erik hadn’t even finished this thought, when Charles already climbed onto his lap without stopping in kissing him, pulling himself close to Erik, their chests and stomachs touching. Erik slung his arms tightly around Charles’ waist. He wouldn’t ever let go. This was where he wanted to be forever, sitting here with Charles, feeling his mind and body closer than he could have possibly hoped.

Charles slung his own arms around Erik’s neck before he broke the kiss to bury his face in Erik’s neck. “God, Erik,” he sobbed, his body shaking.

Charles’ face was wet, Erik could feel it on his own skin. And Erik’s body was shaking slightly with suppressed sobs as well. He clung to Charles’ body as though his life depended on it, though no sound escaped his lips. Why was he still trying to control himself, when Charles had so willingly let go already? Why was he still suppressing his sobs? Nobody would see, except Charles. And Charles knew anyway. Erik wanted him to know. There was absolutely no reason to keep everything hidden and controlled anymore. But why was that so incredibly hard?

Charles pressed soft kisses to the side of Erik’s neck, still crying softly and trembling. His presence in Erik’s mind was like a gentle caress. It was as though Charles was taking his hand and guiding him toward a place where Erik could set his feelings free. No more restrictions.  _ Just let go, Erik. It’s okay. _

And Erik did. He had to take a huge and shaking breath as his emotions washed over him like a large and powerful wave. There was relief, pain, regret, fear, happiness, and love, so much love, all at once. How had there even been enough room inside him to keep all of this hidden? Erik buried his face into Charles’ hair, as his body began to shake harder than ever. He was weak and vulnerable like he hadn’t been for years. Yet it didn’t make him feel afraid. He felt completely safe with Charles. 

Soon Charles’ hair was all wet with Erik’s tears. It would be crusted with salt tomorrow. Small white crystals all over Charles’ soft dark hair. And Erik would see them and remember this moment. The moment when he’d truly come back to life.

Erik laughed silently through his tears, while he began pressing kisses to Charles’ hair, then trailed his kisses to Charles’ ear, his cheek, and, finally, his lips again.

Charles was everything. And his lips were so soft. Erik had thought about kissing them so often, and it had  _ hurt. _ It had hurt so much, because Erik had thought that he’d never kiss them again. That Charles would never be his. And now. Erik sobbed again. How could this be real? It felt like a dream, but it wasn’t. The touch of Charles’ lips was real. And so were his hands around Erik’s neck, and his torso against Erik’s. Real, and touching, just like their cocks, trapped inside their pants.

He heard Charles gasp, before he felt him deepen the kiss as he slid his tongue into Erik’s mouth. There was a thrill that shot through Erik, straight to his groin. He gasped and clung on to Charles’ waist even more tightly.

They were so close, in so many ways, and yet they still weren’t close enough. There were so many parts of Charles’ body that Erik hadn’t touched yet. So many parts of his mind that he wanted to share with Charles. And only then, when Charles was truly everywhere, would it, just maybe, be enough.

He slipped his hands under Charles’ shirt and felt Charles quiver in his arms, before he deepened their kiss even more. Charles’ skin was so soft, so warm. Erik wanted to touch every single spot he could reach. But he couldn’t reach far. As much as he’d enjoyed the sight of Charles’ tight shirt earlier, now it was constantly in the way, constricting the movement of Erik’s hands. It had to come off, and so it did, in a combined effort, as Charles rushed to Erik’s aid.

There was so much more skin now that Erik needed to kiss. Erik worked himself around Charles’ neck, over his collarbone, then upwards again, toward Charles’ ear. Charles’ head was tilted upwards, his hands in Erik’s hair. The sound of his heavy breathing sent spark after spark of electricity down Erik’s spine.

There was still a drop of tear on Charles’ chin, so Erik kissed it away, before he made his way down again, then over Charles’ freckled shoulder. How was it possible that this felt so good? So absolutely perfect.

Erik let his hands roam over Charles’ back, then traveled to his front, caressing his stomach and chest, brushing lightly over his nipples. Charles gasped and quivered again.  _ Oh god, Erik. _ Even his telepathic voice was breathless.

There were soft lips on Erik’s neck, and warm hands on his back, underneath his t-shirt. And then his t-shirt was off, too, and Charles’ hands were exploring Erik’s body, just like Erik’s hands were still touching, caressing, absorbing through their fingertips. If Erik could only feel Charles’ skin underneath his fingers forever, underneath his lips, and have Charles’ fingers and lips on him, and their minds entangled for all eternity.

But, even though Erik’s attention was on the way Charles’ body felt underneath his hands and lips, his cock was also throbbing painfully in his tight jeans, constricted and unable to get the friction it so desperately needed. There was this pressing urge to just rip them off along with Charles’ and put his hand around both of them. Or (and his cock throbbed even more painfully at that thought) have Charles’ hand on him, his mouth.

But he didn’t want this to be quick, even though his cock might disagree. He needed this to be special. Definitely not a quickie on his kitchen chair. Even though there was this mounting desire to just let go and get what his cock needed so badly, a large part of him wanted this moment to last forever. He was drinking in every sight, every smell, every sound and every touch hungrily, trying to catch up on all those lost and lonely years. But he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold himself back. It was driving him half crazy.

_ Please don’t let it be over so soon. _

Just after Erik had finished this thought, Charles straightened up, pulling away from Erik’s touch a little. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Charles’ mouth was slightly open, as he breathed heavily, and his eyes were dark with desire. But there was also fondness in them. The turmoil in their connected minds eased somewhat. Erik’s immediate need for friction, for sexual contact, as well as the painful throbbing in his cock, dimmed a little. Charles was obviously using his telepathy to calm them both. He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Erik’s lips, then went up on slightly shaking legs, taking Erik’s hand.  _ Bedroom? _

Erik pointed silently at the door, and Charles pulled him up from his seat and through the door. Erik could hardly walk on his own legs. He was slightly dazed. Eager, on one hand, to get Charles back into his arms, and explore those parts of his body that had been hidden from him back in the kitchen. Breathlessly awaiting, on the other, what Charles was going to do next.

Charles led Erik silently over to the bed, then clambered onto it and pulled Erik beside him. It was almost completely dark in Erik’s bedroom, except for the distant light of the street-lamps and the moon shining through the window. But that was fine. Erik could still see enough of Charles’ face, and he’d have a chance to see Charles completely naked soon. Now it just gave him the chance to explore Charles’ body with his other senses.

They didn’t go back to kissing each other hungrily, though none of Erik’s desire had faded. But he felt a lot calmer now, more focused on what he wanted. They had time. They had so much time. There was no hurry. Charles’ face was only sparsely illuminated, but the grayish light brought his features into even greater relief. The moonlight reflected in his eyes. He’d never looked more beautiful.

They lay facing each other, both their heads resting on Erik’s pillow, looking into what they could see of each other’s faces, while their hands softly caressed and explored each other’s sides, backs, stomachs and chests. More than once, one of them quivered with desire and let out a shaking breath, when the other one’s fingers trailed over a sensitive spot. But they didn’t move, and they didn’t kiss. They just explored, following each other’s touches on their bodies, watching the other’s reaction to every single touch of theirs. Erik’s heart felt as though it was going to burst at any moment. There was so much love, desire and happiness inside him, inside them both, that he could hardly take it anymore. He could only stare at Charles’ beautiful face, at the same feelings being reflected back at him in Charles’ eyes, while quivering under Charles’ tender and exploring hands and feeling Charles’ warm skin under his fingers.

At some point, at what felt like hours later, or maybe just minutes, Charles’ fingers found their way into the waistband of Erik’s jeans. They traveled slowly lower, as low as the tightness of the jeans allowed, until their fingertips just touched the base of Erik’s cock. Erik sucked in a breath and trembled into his palm, but he kept his eyes fixed on Charles’ face. Charles’ mouth stood open, releasing his breath in soft gasps, his eyes never leaving Erik’s face too.

Erik’s hand was on Charles’ lower back, trailing downwards and into his pants, which were also tight, but allowed enough room for him to cup Charles’ rump and squeeze it softly.

Another warm wave of arousal hit Erik. He wasn’t sure whether it was his own or Charles’. Without looking down, still keeping his eyes fixed intently on Charles’, he used his power to pop open first the button on Charles’ pants, then on his own jeans. Charles gave a tiny breathless laugh, as Erik slowly pulled down both their zippers. “Amazing,” he whispered, and they both sat up for a moment to remove the rest of their clothes.

Then they were back, sliding together, and Charles pressed a soft and rather chaste kiss to Erik’s lips, which only made him crazier with desire. But he held himself back. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. Instead, he lifted a trembling hand to Charles’ face and tenderly brushed back the hair that tousled into his face, before he let his finger trail carefully over Charles’ slightly open lips.

Charles moaned quietly, then closed his red, red lips over it. Erik could hardly believe how beautiful he looked in the moonlight, as he stared at Erik as though he were the only person in the world, while he let one finger trail down Erik’s chest, over his stomach, until it reached the base of Erik’s cock. But he didn’t stop there this time. His finger traveled on, smoothing along and around Erik’s length until it reached the sensitive spot almost at the tip.

Erik gasped at the sensation, absurdly close to coming. He could hardly take it anymore. His hand found Charles’ cock, too, stroked along the length with teasing fingers, and over Charles’ balls, while Charles did the same to him.

Their breaths came in short and rasping gasps now, touches more and more erratic and clinging. As Erik firmly dragged a finger along the soft, twitching patch of skin between Charles’ balls and his hole, they both cried into each other’s mouths, and, with a breathy “please” falling from Charles’ lips, finally grasped each other’s cocks.

Erik’s head was a mess of implosions and white-hot sparks of pleasure. He could hardly think now. All there was in his mind was his own voice repeating Charles’ name over and over again, while he thought he heard his own name echoed in Charles’ voice. 

And then, Charles’s lips were on his again, though one could hardly call it a kiss, nothing but a exchange of gasps and moans into each other’s mouths while they worked each other’s cocks more forcefully still, wringing orgasm from the slick. Erik was flying high. This was Charles. Charles was now truly everywhere, and Erik had never before felt so free and yet safe and protected. As his climax finally hit him, Erik cried out Charles’ name, unashamed of it for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take note of how [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) turned my rather  
> anatomical word 'perineum' into poetry:
> 
> 'the soft, twitching patch of skin between Charles’ balls and his hole'


	31. 5.7 Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can never thank [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight) enough for all her hard work! She deserves all the good things. <33333
> 
> Please check the notes at the end for another two of her additions.

_ Chapter 5.7 _

**Work**

6 October 2012

 

A little while later, after they’d lazily cleaned themselves and crawled under Erik’s blanket, they lay holding each other, drowsy and sated and  _ content. _ Erik had his arm curled around Charles’ shoulder and was pressing soft kisses to his forehead. His other hand was trailing small circles on Charles’ upper arm, which draped across Erik’s chest.

Erik felt as though he was in a dream. Still, it just all seemed so surreal to him. Everything was quiet, and they were lying in semi-darkness, the moon and distant street-lamps the only sources of light. Everything was perfect. There was a...peace, surrounding him and Charles that he’d never experienced before. He could still feel Charles’ warm presence in his mind, but it was dimmer now, more like a soft cushion he could rest his mind in. He wasn’t sure whether Charles was still awake, when he suddenly spoke, quietly, into the silence.

“Thank you, Erik.”

Erik frowned. “What for?” It sounded almost as though Charles was thanking him for the sex they’d just had. And wouldn’t that mean—Erik’s heart painfully skipped a beat—that it had been only about the sex and nothing else?

Charles chuckled.  _ Oh, Erik. It’s not like that. You know it’s not. Though the sex was amazing, I’ll give you that. _ He sighed contently. “Thank you for trusting me enough to let me into your mind again.”

Erik swallowed and squeezed Charles’ shoulder tightly.  _ I never want you to leave again. _ The next moment he just wanted to hit himself. He was already going too fast again. Why couldn’t he just take it slow?

But Charles squeezed him back and pressed a kiss to his collarbone. There was a reassuring and calming caress in Erik’s mind. One that said ‘Don’t worry.’ _ I’d love that,  _ said Charles telepathically. _ I love your mind. I’ve missed it. A lot. _

Tears were welling up again. Erik squeezed Charles’ shoulder even more tightly and went back to pressing kisses to Charles’ forehead. He was extremely glad he didn’t have to talk. He might not have been able to get out a single word. _ I’ve missed you in me too. God, I’ve missed it so much. I’m sorry, Charles. I’m so sorry I ever shut you out in the first place. That was the biggest mistake of my life. _

Charles didn’t say anything for a moment. He caressed Erik’s chest very gently. “Why did you shut me out?” he asked quietly. His voice was pained. Shame washed over Erik.

Erik still couldn’t speak, so he just pushed the memory of that one night, when they’d been thirteen years old, to the front of his mind. The memory of the wet dream he’d had, of his shame, and his fear that Charles might see it all in his head. It wasn’t hard to find. He’d thought about this scene very often in all those years since, hating himself, first for having those thoughts about Charles, then for his cowardice.

It was quiet for a moment, as both Erik and Charles relived the scene from Erik’s perspective. It was still painful to watch. This was the moment after all that it had all gone wrong. His biggest mistake. And Erik could still feel the humiliation of that night, and the guilt. Oh god, the guilt.

Charles gave a little laugh.

“What?” asked Erik, frowning. He didn’t exactly feel like laughing himself.

“Sorry,” said Charles, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at Erik, smiling. “It’s not funny, really. But, oh. If you only knew how often I had dreams like that about you back then.”

Erik stared at him. “You did? I had no idea.”

“Of course not. I wasn’t going to share that with you.” Charles shook his head. “And there I was thinking that I’d inadvertently done something terrible to your mind while I’d been asleep.”

“Bullshit. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know.” There was a sad smile on Charles’ lips. “I’ve had trouble controlling my telepathy before. And then you were kind of distant afterwards, and that made me think that you were still angry because of it. Or afraid.”

Erik shook his head. He could hardly believe it. All those years. All this suffering. And they could have been together all along. It had all just been so…unnecessary.

Charles was still looking at him. “I’ve been a huge idiot,” he said. “I’ve never really given up on you. Never. But I’ve always been too much of a coward to say anything. Instead I just kind of tried out a lot of stuff and always watched you for any sign of jealousy or whatever. But there was never anything. It was a huge mistake. It made you think I didn’t care about you anymore. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize back then how it made you feel.” He swallowed. “I’m shit at reading people without my telepathy. I try, but I just can’t get the hang of it. I’m really lost if I can’t use it. It’s quite the handicap, you see.”

“You shouldn’t be kept from using it,” said Erik through clenched teeth. “Not ever. I’m sorry, Charles. I’m really sorry. I’ll never shut you out again. I promise.”

Charles bent forward and pressed a tender kiss to Erik’s lips.  _ I know. Thank you. That means the world to me. _

Erik returned the kiss, and for a little while it was quiet again, as they lost themselves in the sensation of each other’s lips and tongues. But there were still some things that were bugging Erik. Something that Charles had said, and something else they hadn’t yet talked about.

Charles could obviously tell that there was something on his mind, because he broke the kiss to look at Erik again. He raised his eyebrows. “What is it?” He could have just as easily extracted the information from Erik’s mind, but maybe it was a good thing that Erik was still forced to bring up things by himself.

“You said that you just tried out stuff and watched for my reaction. But...” Erik swallowed. “So. All those girls. They weren’t...? Were they?”

Charles kissed him again. “I’m not going to lie. It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it. I’m not even sure. Part of it was trying to find out how you felt about me—and I was terribly disappointed every time. It just always seemed as though you didn’t care, though I understand now that that was just how you reacted to my stupid ideas. But I think I was also kind of trying to get over you. I guess I hoped that one of them would replace you in my mind.” He gave Erik a crooked smile. “Well needless to say, they didn’t. None of them could ever even get close to you. I’m so sorry, Erik. I know I’ve hurt you. Again and again. I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t know what to do. And when Bonnie talked shit about you—”

“You noticed that?” interrupted him Erik. His eyes were wide open. He vividly remembered that New Year’s Eve when Charles’ girlfriend Bonnie had insulted him and Charles had done absolutely nothing about it. It had hurt back then. It had hurt badly.

Charles smiled sadly. “Why do you think we broke up? We had a huge fight. And I’ve never spoken to her again after that. But I should’ve stood up to her. I should have defended you. I’m so sorry. That’s what I meant when I said bad things happen when I drink. I hurt you. Even though that was the last thing I ever wanted. And not just then. All those other times that I didn’t say anything, that I didn’t step up to defend you. I’m sorry. I wish I’d have been braver. I’m so sorry, Erik.”

Erik swallowed. He placed a soft kiss on Charles’ lips and pulled him a little closer, unable to say anything. But he could tell that Charles understood. Yes, it had hurt back then. He’d felt abandoned at times, as though Charles didn’t care. But what did it matter now? He’d fucked up too. And more than once. They both had. They should have talked about it all back then, but they just hadn’t had the guts, or maybe they hadn’t been mature enough. They were both at fault. They’d let it slip away, avoided talking about it. Then Charles had been busy with his applications, and very soon he’d been gone, and they hadn’t spoken again. For a moment, Erik wondered whether he also ought to apologize for the terrible things he’d said to Charles the night before his departure to Harvard, even though it had happened so long ago. It seemed as though there were millions of things he needed to apologize for.

_ It’s fine, Erik. I can see it all clearly now. I should have payed more attention then. You were scared, and so was I. We both made mistakes. Big mistakes. I ignored you all night, too busy trying to be everyone’s friend, when I should have just spent more time with you. I should have defended you when they insulted you. Again. I’m so sorry. But I had no idea how you felt about me. I honestly still thought you were scared of my mutation, or even disgusted by it. Same thing when you left after my birthday party. I thought I might have slipped when I was so drunk, and done something that scared you, and that was why you ran away. _

Erik rubbed his eyes. He found it hard to look at Charles. This was probably the thing that he was ashamed of most. He’d fucked up horribly again and again, but never quite as bad as that time. “I’m so sorry, Charles. I was just so scared. I—”

_ I know. I’ve seen it in your mind earlier. It’s okay. Don’t think about it anymore. I think it’s safe to say that we’ve both been huge idiots. _

Erik couldn’t help but laugh quietly at that. It was quite true. He pulled Charles into his arms and pressed kisses to every bit of skin that he could reach. His cheeks were wet again, and so were Charles’. Though those weren’t sad tears, but tears of joy. They’d finally gotten what they’d both longed for for half their lives. What good would it do to bemoan those last years? They’d make up for them. They still had so much time. And they’d make the best of it. They both knew it. Their lives were only now truly beginning, and so much still lay ahead of them.

Charles fell asleep a short while later, but Erik couldn’t sleep yet. Charles lay in his arms, warm and pale and naked except for the small metal bracelet on his wrist,  _ Erik’s _ bracelet, that was buzzing softly as Erik felt out for it, and completely his. Erik’s. The next morning would be theirs completely. They’d be together all day. It was a Sunday, so they could do whatever they wanted. They could stay in bed all day, losing themselves in each other desperately, again and  _ again _ and again. There was so much that Erik wanted to try with Charles. Or they could go outside. This was New York.  _ They could hold hands while walking. _ The merest thought of something so  _ simple _ and yet, so  _ wanted, _ had Erik’s stomach performing somersaults. And then they could go out for dinner, on a real and proper date. Erik could refer to Charles as his _boyfriend_ , and maybe Charles would introduce him to his friends, to all those other fascinating mutants he'd talked about. The future was incredibly bright. And it didn’t really matter what they did next, as long as Charles was by his side. And in his mind. Always.

Erik softly brushed the hair out of Charles’ face and placed one more kiss on his forehead. “I love you,” he whispered. He hadn’t told him yet, though Charles had seen it in his head. He’d tell him again tomorrow, when he was awake. And then the day after next. He’d make sure Charles never forgot how loved he was.

It wasn’t long after that Erik drifted off into a deep sleep, his nose buried into Charles’ hair, his hand on Charles’ back. For the first time in his life, he didn’t dream and didn’t wake once before the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends, this is it. I'm both proud and sad that this journey is over. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
> 
> I want to thank everyone who left kudos, and especially all of those who commented and made my days so much brighter. I'll miss you!
> 
>  
> 
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> Written by [industandstarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/industandstarlight/pseuds/industandstarlight):  
> ' _I've missed you in me too_ ' (yes, she wrote that, my filthy little beta, and I couldn't suppress a smirk when I read it)
> 
> 'The merest thought of something so simple and yet, so wanted'


End file.
